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Defend yourself, Michael Strogoff, for I shall not spare you:"1— Page 130.
Michael Strogoff.
\
MICHAEL STROGOFF
THE COURIER OF THE CZAR
By JULES VERNE
Author of " The Mysterious Island," "Twenty Thousand
Leagues Under the Sea," " From the Earth to the
Moon,'' etc., etc.
A. L. BURT COMPANY, * j* j*
j» > ^PUBLISHERS, NEW YORK
CONTENTS.
PART I.
3aV/
PAGE
CHAPTER I.
A Fete at the New Palace 1
CHAPTER II.
Russians and Tartars 13
CHAPTER III.
Michael Strogoff Introduced to the Czar 24
CHAPTER IV.
From Moscow to Nijni-Novgorod 32
CHAPTER V.
The Two Announcements , 48
CHAPTER VI.
Brother and Sister 59
CHAPTER VII.
Going Down the Volga 67
CHAPTER VIII.
Going Up the Kama 78
CHAPTER IX.
Day and Night in a Tarantass 87
CHAPTER X.
A Storm in the Ural Mountains 97
CHAPTER XI.
Travelers in Distress 107
CHAPTER XII.
Provocation 1 19
CHAPTER XIII.
Duty Before Everything 133
CHAPTER XIV.
Mother and Son 142
,v CONTENTS.
PAGE
CHAPTER XV.
The Marches of the Baraba 154
CHAPTER XVI.
A Final Effort 165
CHAPTER XVII.
The Rivals 177
PART II.
CHAPTER I.
A Tartar Camp 187
CHAPTER II.
Correspondents in Trouble 199
CHAPTER III.
Blow for Blow 216
CHAPTER IV.
The Triumphal Entry , 229
CHAPTER V.
" Look While You May!" 240
CHAPTER VI.
A Friend on the Highway 249
CHAPTER VII.
The Passage of the Yenisei 261
CHAPTER VIII.
A Hare Crosses the Road t 272
CHAPTER IX.
In the Steppe t 285
CHAPTER X.
Lake Baikal and the Angara ' 297
CHAPTER XI.
Between Two Banks 3qq
CHAPTER XII.
Irkutsk qoi
CHAPTER XIII.
The Czar's Courier ooo
CHAPTER XIV.
The Night of the Fifth of October 344
CHAPTER XV.
( fonclusiOD ofrfi
MICHAEL STROGOFF.
PART I.
CHAPTER I.
A FETE AT THE NEW PALACE.
" Sire, a fresh dispatch."
"Whence?"
"From Tomsk."
"Is the wire cut beyond that city?"
" Yes, sire, since yesterday."
" Telegraph hourly to Tomsk, general, and let me be
kept au courant of all that occurs."
" Sire, it shall be done," answered General Kissoff.
These words were exchanged about two hours after mid-
night, at the moment when the fete given at the New
Palace was at the height of its splendor.
During the whole evening the bands of the Preobra-
jensky and Paulowsky regiments had played without cessa-
tion polkas, mazurkas, schottisches, and waltzes from
among the choicest of their repertories. Innumerable
couples of dancers whirled through the magnificent saloons
of the palace, which stood at a few paces only from the
"old house of stones" — in former days the scene of so
many terrible dramas, and the echoes of whose walls were
this night awakened by the gay strains of the musicians.
MICHAEL 8TR0Q0FF.
The grand chamberlain of the court was, besides, well
aded in his arduous and delicate duties. The grand
dukes and their aids-de-camp, the chamberlains-in-waiting
and other officers of the palace, presided personally in the
arrangemenl of the dances. The -rand duchesses, covered
with diamonds, the ladies-in-waiting in their most exquisite
costumes, set the example to the wives of the military
and civil dignitaries of the ancient "city of white stone."
When, therefore, the signal for the " polonaise " resounded
through the saloons and the guests of all ranks took part
in that measured promenade, which on occasions of this
kind has all the importance of a national dance, the min-
gled costumes, the sweeping robes adorned with lace, and
uniforms covered with orders, presented a scene of dazzling
ami indescribable splendor, lighted by hundreds of lusters
multiplied tenfold by reflection in the numerous mirrors
adorning the walls.
The grand saloon, the finest of all those contained in
the New Palace, formed to this procession of exalted per-
sonages and splendidly dressed women a frame worthy of
the magnificence they displayed. The rich ceiling, with
its gilding already softened by the touch of time, appeared
as if glittering with stars. The embroidered drapery of
the curtains and doors, falling in gorgeous folds, assumed
rich and varied hues, broken by the shadows of the heavy
masses of damask.
Through the panes of the vast semicircular bay-windows
the light with which the saloons were tilled shone forth
with the brilliancy of a conflagration, vividly illuminating
the gloom in which for some hours the palace had been
shrouded. The attention of those of the guests not taking
part in t he dancing was attracted by the contrast. Resting
in the n i he windows, they could discern, standing
out dimly in the darkness, die vague outlines of thecount-
. domes, and spires which adorn the ancient city.
A FETE AT THE NEW PALACE. 3
Below the sculptured balconies were visible numerous
sentries, pacing silently up and down, their rifles, carried
horizontally on the shoulder, and the spikes of their hel-
mets glittering like flames in the glare of light issuing from
the palace. The steps also of the patrols could be heard
beating time on the stones beneath with even more regular-
ity than the feet of the dancers on the floor of the saloons.
From time to time the watchword was repeated from post
to post, and occasionally the notes of a trumpet, mingling
with the strains of the orchestra, penetrated into their
midst. Still further down, in front of the facade, dark
masses obscured the rays of light which proceeded from the
windows of the New Palace. These were boats descending
the course of a river whose waters, faintly illumined by
the twinkling light of a few lamps, washed the lower por-
tion of the terraces.
The principal personage who has been mentioned, the
giver of the fete, and to whom General Kissoff had been
speaking in that tone of respect with which sovereigns
alone are usually addressed, wore the simple uniform of an
officer of chasseurs of the guard. This was not affectation
on his part, but the custom of a man who cared little for
dress, his contrasting strongly with the gorgeous cos-
tumes amid which he moved, encircled by his escort of
Georgians, Cossacks, and Circassians — a brilliant band,
splendidly clad in the glittering uniforms of the Caucasus.
This personage, of lofty stature, affable demeanor, and
physiognomy calm, though bearing traces of anxiety,
moved from group to group, seldom speaking, and appear-
ing to pay but little attention either to the merriment of
the younger guests or the graver remarks of the exalted %
dignitaries or members of the diplomatic corps who repre-
sented at the Russian court the principal governments of
Europe. Two or three of these astute politicians — physiog-
nomists by virtue of their profession — failed not to detect
4 MICHAEL 8TR0G0FF.
on tlu' countenance of their host symptoms of disquietude,
the source of which eluded their penetration; but none
ventured to interrogate him on the subject.
It was evidently the intention of the officer of chasseurs
that his own anxieties should in noway cast a shade over
the festivities, and as he was one of those few personages
whom almost the population of a world in itself was wont
to obey, the gayety of the ball was not for a moment
checked.
Nevertheless, General Kissoff waited until the officer
to whom he had just communicated the dispatch forwarded
from Tomsk should give him permission to withdraw, but
the latter still remained silent. He had taken the tele-
gram, he had read it carefully, and his visage became even
more clouded 'than before. Involuntarily he sought the
hilt of his sword, and then passed his hand for an instant
before his eyes, as though, dazzled by the brilliancy of the
light, he wished to shade them, the better to see into the
vt^ »f his own mind.
" We are, then/' he continued, after having drawn
Genera] Kissoff aside toward a window, "since yesterday
without intelligence from the grand duke?"
" Without any, sire, and it is to be feared that shortly
dispatches will no longer cross the Siberian frontier."
" But have not the troops of the provinces of Amoor and
Erkutsk, as those also of the transbalkan territory, received
orders to march immediately upon Irkutsk?"
"The orders were transmitted by the last telegram we
were able to send beyond Lake Baikal."
-And the governments of Yeniseisk, Omsk, Semipola-
tinsk, and Tobolsk— are we still in direct communication
with them as before the insurrection ?"
■ Xes, Bire; our dispatches haw reached them, and we
reassured at the presenl moment that the Tartars have
not advanced beyond the Irtish and the Obi."
.4 FETE A T THE NEW PALACE. 5
" And the traitor Ivan Ogareff, are there no tidings of
him?"
"None," replied General Kissoff. "The head of the
police cannot state whether or not he has crossed the
frontier."
"Let a description of him be immediately dispatched
to Nijni-Novgorod, Perm, Ekaterenburg, Kasimov, Tiou-
men, Ishim, Omsk, Elamsk, Kalyvan, Tomsk, and to all
the telegraphic stations with which communication is yet
open."
" Your majesty's orders shall be instantly carried out,"
answered General Kissoff.
"You will observe the strictest silence as to this."
The general, having made a sign of respectful assent,
bowing low, mingled for a short time with the crowd, and
finally left the apartments without his departure being re-
marked.
The officer remained absorbed in thought for a few
moments, when, recovering himself, he went among the
various groups formed in different parts of the saloon, his
countenance reassuming that calm aspect which had for an
instant been disturbed.
Nevertheless, the important occurrence which had occa-
sioned these rapidly exchanged words was not so unknown
as the officer of chasseurs of the guard and General Kissoff
had possibly supposed. It was not spoken of officially, it
is true, nor even officiously, since tongues were not free;
but a few exalted personages had been informed, more or
less exactly, of the events which had taken place beyond
the frontier. At any rate, that which was only slightly
known, that which was not matter of conversation even be-
tween members of the diplomatic corps, two guests, distin-
guished by no uniform, no decoration, at this reception in
the New Palace, discussed in a low voice and with appar-
ently very correct information.
MICHARL STUOGOFF.
By what means, by the exercise of what acuteness had
these two ordinary mortals ascertained that which so many
persona of the highest rank and importance scarcely even
suspected? It is impossible to say. Had they the gifts of
foreknowledge and foresight? Did they possess a supple-
mentary sense which enabled them to see beyond that lim-
ited horizon which hounds all human gaze? Had they ob-
tained a peculiar power of divining the most secret events?
Was it owing to the habit, now become a second nature, of
Living on information and by information, that their men-
tal constitution had thus become really transformed? It
was difficult to escape from this conclusion.
Of these two men, the one was English, the other
French; both were tall and thin, but the latter was sallow
as are the southern Provencals, while the former was ruddy
like a Lancashire gentleman. The Anglo-Norman, formal,
eold, grave, parsimonious of gestures and words, appearing
only to speak or gesticulate under the influence of a spring
operating at regular intervals. The Gaul, on the contrary,
lively and petulant, expressed himself with lips, eyes,
hands, all at once, having twenty different ways of explain-
ing his thoughts, whereas his interlocutor seemed to have
only one, immutably stereotyped on his brain.
The strong contrast they presented would at once have
.-truck the most superficial observer; but a physiognomist
regarding them more closely, would have defined their par-
ticular characteristics by saying that if the Frenchman was
"all eyes," the Englishman was "all ears."
In fact, the visual apparatus of the one had been singu-
larly perfected by practice. The sensibility of its retina
mu.-t have hcen as instantaneous as that of those conjur-
ors who recognize a card merely by a rapid movement in
cutting the pack or by the arrangement only of marks in-
visible to others. The Frenchman indeed possessed in
the highest degree what may he called -the memory of the
A FETE A T THE NEW PALACE. ?
The Englishman, on the contrary, appeared especially
organized to listen and to hear. When his aural apparatus
had been once struck by the sound of a voice he could not
forget it, and after ten or even twenty years he would have
recognized it among a thousand. His ears, to be sure, had
not the power of moving as freely as those of animals who
are provided with large auditory flaps, but since scientific
men know that human ears possess, in fact, a very limited
power of movement, we should not be far wrong in af-
firming that those of the said Englishman became erect
and turned in all directions while endeavoring to gather
in the sounds, in a manner apparent only to the naturalist.
It must be observed that this perfection of sight and
hearing was of wonderful assistance to these two men in
their vocation, for the Englishman acted as correspondent
of the Daily Telegraph and the Frenchman as corre-
spondent of the — of what newspaper or of what news-
papers he did not say; and when asked, he replied in a
jocular manner that he corresponded with "his Cousin
Madeleine." This Frenchman, however, beneath his care-
less surface was wonderfully shrewd and sagacious. Even
while speaking at random, perhaps the better to hide his
desire to learn, he never forgot himself. His loquacity
even helped him to conceal his thoughts, and he was
perhaps even more discreet than his confrere of the Daily
Telegraph. Both were present at this fete given at the
New Palace on the night of the 15th of July in their
character of reporters and for the greater edification of
their readers.
It is needless to say that these two men were devoted to
their mission in the world — that they delighted to throw
themselves in the track of the most unexpected intelligence
— that nothing terrified or discouraged them from succeed-
ing— that they possessed the imperturbable sang-froid and
the genuine intrepidity of men of their calling. Enthu-
g MICHAEL STROGOFF.
siastic jockeys in this steeplechase, this hunt after infor-
mation, they leaped hedges, crossed rivers, sprang over
fences, with the ardor of pure-blooded racers, who will run
" a good first" or die!
Their journals did not restrict them with regard to
money — the surest, the most rapid, the most perfect
element of information known to this day. It must also
be added, to their honor, that neither the one nor the
other ever looked over or listened at the walls of private
life, and that they only exercised their vocation when
political or social interests were at stake. In a word, they
made what has been for some years called "the great
political and military reports."
It will be seen, in following them, that they had
generally an independent mode of viewing events and,
above all, their consequences, each having bis own way of
observing and appreciating. The object to be attained
being of adequate value, they never failed to expend the
money required.
The French correspondent was named Alcide Jolivet.
Harry Blount was the name of the Englishman. They
had just met for the first time at this fete in the New
Palace, of which they had been ordered to give an account
in their papers. The dissimilarity of their characters,
added to a certain amount of jealousy, which generally
exists between rivals in the same calling, might have
rendered them but little sympathetic. However, they did
not avoid one another, but endeavored rather to exchange
with each other the news of the day. They were two
sportsmen, after all, hunting on the same ground, in the
same preserves. That which one missed might be advan-
tageously secured by the other, and it was to their interest
to meet and converse together.
This evening they were both on the lookout; they felt,
in fact, that there was something in the air.
A FETE AT THE NEW PALACE. 9
" Even should it be only a wild-goose chase," said Alcide
Jolivet to himself, "it may be worth powder and shot."
The two correspondents were therefore led to chat
together during the ball a few minutes after the departure
of General Kissoff, and they began by cautiously sounding
each other.
"Really, my dear sir, this little fete is charming!" said
Alcide Jolivet pleasantly, thinking himself obliged to begin
the conversation with this eminently French phrase.
"I have telegraphed already, ' splendid V " replied
Harry Blount calmly, employing the word specially de-
voted to expressing admiration by all subjects of the
United Kingdom.
"Nevertheless," added Alcide Jolivet, "I felt com-
pelled to remark to my cousin "
"Your cousin?" repeated Harry Blount in a tone of
surprise, interrupting his brother of the pen.
" Yes," returned Alcide Jolivet," " my Cousin Madeleine.
It is with her that I correspond, and she likes to be quickly
and well informed, does my cousin. I therefore remarked
to her that during this fete a sort of cloud had appeared to
overshadow the sovereign's brow.'*
" To me it seemed radiant," replied Harry Blount, who
perhaps wished to conceal his real opinion on this topic.
"And, naturally, you made it ' radiant ' in the columns
of the Daily Telegraph."
"Exactly."
" Do you remember, Mr. Blount, what occurred at
Zakret in 1813?"
"I remember it as well as if I had been there, sir,"
replied the English correspondent.
" Then," continued Alcide Jolivet, "you know that in
the middle of a fete given in his honor, it was announced
to the Emperor Alexander that Napoleon had just crossed
the Niemen with the vanguard of the French army.
10 MICHAEL STROGOFF.
Nevertheless the emperor did not leave the fete, and not-
withstanding the extreme gravity of intelligence which
might cost him his empire, he did not allow himself to
show more uneasiness "
"Than our host exhibited when General Kissoff in-
formed him that the telegraphic wires had just been cut
between the frontier and the government of Irkutsk."
" Ah! you are aware of that?"
"I am!"
" As regards myself, it would be difficult to avoid know-
ing it, since my last telegram reached Udinsk," observed
Alcide Jolivet, with some satisfaction.
"And mine only as far as Krasnoiarsk," answered
Harry Blount, in a no less satisfied tone.
"Then you know also that orders have been sent to the
troops of Nikolaevsk?"
" I do, sir; and at the same time a telegram was sent to
the Cossacks of the government of Tobolsk to concentrate
their forces."
"Nothing can be more true, Mr. Blount. I was equally
well acquainted with these measures, and you may be sure
that my dear cousin shall know something of them to-
morrow. n
" Exactly as the readers of the Daily Telegraph shall
know it also, M. Jolivet."
" Well, when one sees all that is going on "
" And when one hears all that is said "
"An interesting campaign to follow, Mr. Blount."
"I shall follow it, M. Jolivet!"
"Then it is possible that we shall find ourselves on ground
less safe, perhaps, than the floor of this ball-room."
" Less safe, certainly, but "
" But much less slippery," added Alcide Jolivet, holding
up his companion just as the latter, drawing back, was
about to lose his equilibrium.
A FETE AT THE NEW PALACE. H
Thereupon the two correspondents separated, pleased
enough to know that the one had not stolen a march on
the other.
At that moment the doors of the rooms adjoining the
great reception saloon were thrown open, disclosing to
view several immense tables beautifully laid out and groan-
ing under a profusion of valuable china and gold plate.
On the central table, reserved for the princes, princesses,
and members of the diplomatic corps, glittered an epergne
of inestimable price, brought from London, and around
this chef-d'oeuvre of chased gold were reflected, under the
light of the lusters, a thousand pieces of the most beautiful
service which the manufactories of Sevres had ever pro-
duced.
The guests of the New Palace immediately began to
stream toward the supper-rooms.
At that moment General Kissoff, who had just
reentered, quickly approached the officer of chasseurs.
" Well?" asked the latter abruptly, as he had done the
former time.
"Telegrams pass Tomsk no longer, sire."
"A courier this moment!"
The officer left the hall and entered a large antechamber
adjoining.
It was a cabinet with plain oak furniture and situated in
an angle of the New Palace. Several pictures, among
others some by Horace Vernet, hung on the wall.
The officer hastily opened a window, as if he felt the
want of air, and stepped out on a balcony to breathe the
pure atmosphere of a lovely July night.
Beneath his eyes, bathed in moonlight, lay a fortified
inclosure, from which rose two cathedrals, three palaces,
and an arsenal. Around this inclosure could be seen three
distinct towns: Kitai-Gorod, Beloi-Gorod, Zemlianai-
Gorod — European, Tartar, or Chinese quarters of great
1 •> MICHA EL STROOOFF.
extent, commanded by towers, belfries, minarets, aud the
cupolas of three hundred churches with green domes sur-
mounted l)v the silver cross. A little winding river here
and there reflected the rays of the moon. All this to-
gether formed a curious mosaic of variously colored houses,
eel in an immense frame of ten leagues in circumference.
This river was the Moskowa; the town Moscow; the for-
tified inclosure the Kremlin; and the officer of chasseurs
of the guard who, with folded arms and thoughtful brow,
was listening dreamily to the sounds floating from the New
Palace over the old Moscovite city, was the czar.
RUSSIANS AND TARTARS. 13
CHAPTER II.
RUSSIANS AND TARTARS.
The czar had not so suddenly left the ball-room of the
New Palace, when the fete he was giving to the civil and
military authorities and principal people of Moscow was at
the height of its brilliancy, without ample cause; for he
had just received information that serious events were tak-
ing place beyond the frontiers of the Ural. It had become
evident that a formidable rebellion threatened to wrest the
Siberian provinces from the Russian crown.
Asiatic Russia, or Siberia, covers a superficial area of
nearly eighteen hundred thousand square miles and con-
tains nearly two millions of inhabitants. Extending from
the Ural Mountains, which separate it from Russia in
Europe, to the shores of the Pacific Ocean, it is bounded
on the south by Turkestan and the Chinese Empire; on
the north by the Arctic Ocean, from the Sea of Kara to
Behring's Straits. It is divided into several governments
or provinces, those of Tobolsk, Yeniseisk, Irkutsk, Omsk,
and Yakutsk; contains two districts, Okhotsk and Kamt-
schatka; and possesses two countries, now under the
Muscovite dominion — that of the Kirghiz and that of the
Tshouktshes. This immense extent of steppes, which in-
cludes more than one hundred and ten degrees from west
to east, is a land to which both criminals are transporated
and political offenders are banished.
Two governor-generals represent the supreme authority
of the czar over this vast country. One resides at Irkutsk,
1 1 MIC II. I EL 8TR0G0FF.
the capital of Western Siberia. The River Tchouna, a
tributary of the Xenisei, separates the two Siberias.
N,i rail yet furrows these wide plains, some of which
arc in reality extremely fertile. No iron ways lead from
those precious mines which make the Siberian soil far
richer below than above its surface. The traveler journeys
in summer in a kibick or telga; in winter in a sledge.
An electric telegraph, with a single wire more than
eight thousand vcrsts in length, alone affords communica-
tion between the western and eastern frontiers of Siberia.
On issuing from the Ural, it passes through Ekateren-
burg, Kasimov, Tioumen, [shim, Omsk, Elamsk, Kalyvan
Tomsk, Krasnoiarsk, N"ijni-Udinsk, Irkutsk, Yerkne-Nert-
sckink, Strelink, Albazine, Blagowstenks, Radde, Orlom-
skaya, Alexandrowskoe, and Xikolaevsk; and six roubles
and nineteen kopecks are paid for every word sent from
one end to the other. From Irkutsk there is a branch to
Kiatka, on the Mongolian frontier; and from thence, for
thirty kopecks a word, the post conveys the dispatches to
Pekin in a fortnight.
It was this wire, extending from Ekaterenburg to
Xikolaevsk. which had been cut, first beyond Tomsk and
then between Tomsk and Kalyvan.
This was the reason why the czar, to the communica-
tion made to him for the second time by General Kissoff,
had only answered by the Avords, " A courier this mo-
ment:"'
The czar had remained motionless at the window for a
few moments, when the door was again opened. The chief
of police appeared on the threshold.
"Enter, general," said the czar briefly, "and tell me
all you know of Ivan OgarenV'
" Be is an extremely dangerous man, sire," replied the
chief of police.
" lie ranked as colonel, did he not?*
RUSSIANS AND TARTARS. 15
"Yes, sire."
" AVas he an intelligent officer?"
"Very intelligent, but a man whose spirit it was
impossible to subdue; and possessing an ambition which
stopped at nothing, he soon became involved in secret
intrigues, and it was then that he was degraded from his
rank by his highness the grand duke and exiled to Si-
beria."
" How long ago was that?"
" Two years since. Pardoned after six months of exile
by your majesty's favor, he returned to Russia."
"And since that time has he not revisited Siberia?"
" Yes, sire; but he voluntarily returned there," replied
the chief of police, adding, and slightly lowering his voice,
" there was a time, sire, when none returned from Siberia."
" Well, while I live Siberia is and shall be a country
whence men can return."
The czar had the right to utter these words with some
pride, for often by his clemency he had shown that
Russian justice knew how to pardon.
The head of the police did not reply to this obser-
vation, but it was evident that he did not approve of such
half-measures. According to his idea, a man who had
once passed the Ural Mountains in charge of policemen
ought never again to cross them. Now, it was not thus
under the new reign, and the chief of police sincerely
deplored it. What! no banishment for life for other
crimes than those against social order! What! political
exiles returning from Tobolsk, from Yakutsk, from Ir-
kutsk! In truth, the chief of police, accustomed to the
despotic sentences of the ukase which formerly never par-
doned, could not understand this mode of governing. I3ut
he was silent, waiting until the czar should interrogate
him further.
The questions were not long in coming.
1H MICHAEL 8TR0Q0FF.
" Did not Ivan Ogareff/' asked the czar, "return to
Russia a second time after that journey through the Si-
berian provinces the object of which remains unknown?"
"He did."
" And have the police lost trace of him since?"
" No, sire; for an offender only becomes really dangerous
from the day he has received bis pardon. "
The czar frowned. Perhaps the chief of police feared
that he had gone rather too far, though the stubbornness
of his ideas was at least equal to the boundless devotion he
felt for his master. But the czar, disdaining to reply to
these indirect reproaches cast on his interior policy, con-
tinued his series of questions.
"Where was Ivan Ogareff last heard of?"
" In the province of Perm."
"In what town?"
"At Perm itself."
" What was he doing?"
" He appeared unoccupied, and there was nothing sus-
picious in his conduct."
" Then he was not under the surveillance of the secret
police?"
"No, sire."
" When did he leave Perm?"
" About the month of March."
" To go "
" Where is unknown."
• And since that time, it is not known what has become
of him?"
" No, sire; it is not known."
"Well, then, I myself know," answered the czar. "I
have received anonymous communications which did not
through the police department, and in the face of
events now taking place beyond the frontier, I have every
reason to believe thai they are correct."
RUSSIANS AND TARTARS. 1?
"Do you mean, sire," cried the chief of police, "that
Ivan Ogareff has a hand in this Tartar rebellion ?"
"Indeed I do; and I will now tell you something which
you are ignorant of. After leaving Perm, Ivan Ogareff
crossed the Ural Mountains, entered Siberia, and pene-
trated the Kirghiz steppes, and there endeavored, not
without success, to foment rebellion among their nomadic
population. He then went so far south as free Turkestan;
there, in the provinces of Bokhara, Khokhand, and Koon-
dooz, he found chiefs willing to pour their Tartar hordes
into Siberia and excite a general rising in Asiatic Russia.
The storm has been silently gathering, but it has at last
burst like a thunder-clap, and now all means of communi-
cation between Eastern and Western Siberia have been
stopped. Moreover, Ivan Ogareff, thirsting for vengeance,
aims at the life of my brother!"
The czar had become excited while speaking, and now
paced up and down with hurried steps. The chief of
police said nothing, but he thought to himself that during
the time when the emperors of Russia never pardoned an
exile, schemes such as those of Ivan Ogareff could never
have been realized. A few moments passed, during which
he was silent, then approaching the czar, who had thrown
himself into an arm-chair:
" Your majesty," said he, " has of course given orders
that this rebellion may be suppressed as soon as possible?"
" Yes," answered the czar. " The last telegram which
was able to reach Nijni-Udinsk would set in motion the
troops in the governments of Yenisei, Irkutsk, Yakutsk, as
well as those in the provinces of the Amoor and Lake
Baikal. At the same time, the regiments from Perm and
Nijni-Novgorod and the Cossacks from the frontier are
advancing by forced marches toward the Ural Mountains,
but unfortunately some weeks must pass before they can
attack the Tartars."
IS MICHAEL STROGOFF.
u And your majesty's brother, his highness, the grand
duke, is now isolated in the government of Irkutsk and is
no longer in direct communication with Moscow?"
" That is so. n
" But by the last dispatches lie must know what
measures have been taken by your majesty, and what help
he may expect from the governments nearest to that of
Irkutsk?"
" He knows that/' answered the czar; " but what he
does not know is that Ivan Ogareff, as well as being a
rebel, is also playing the part of a traitor, and that in him
he lias a personal and bitter enemy. It is to the grand
duke that Ivan Ogareff owes his first disgrace; and what is
more serious is that this man is not known to him. Ivan
Ogareff's plan, therefore, is to go to Irkutsk and under an
assumed name offer his services to the grand duke. Then,
after gaining his confidence, when the Tartars have in-
vested Irkutsk he will betray the town, and with it my
brother, whose life is directly threatened. This is what I
have learned from my secret intelligence; this is what the
grand duke does not know; and this is what he must
know I"
" Well, sire, an intelligent, courageous courier "
" I momentarily expect one."
"And it is to be hoped he will be expeditious," added
the chief of police, " for, allow me to add, sire, Siberia is a
favorable land for rebellions."
"Do you mean to say, general, that the exiles would
make common cause with the rebels?" exclaimed the czar,
indignant at the insinuation.
"Excuse me, your majesty," stammered the chief of
police, for that was really the idea suggested to him by his
uneasy and suspicious mind.
" I believe in their patriotism," returned the czar.
"There are other offenders besides political exiles in
Siberia," said the chief of police.
jay/
RUSSIANS AND TARTARS. 19
The criminals? Oh, general, I give those up to you!
They are the vilest, I grant, of the human race. They
belong to no country. But the insurrection, or rather the
rebellion, is not to oppose the emperor; it is raised against
Russia, against the country which the exiles have not lost
•ill hope of again seeing — and which they will see again.
No, a Russian would never unite with a Tartar to weaken,
were it only for an hour, the Muscovite power!"
The czar was right in trusting to the patriotism of those
whom his policy kept, for a time, at a distance. Clemency,
which was the foundation of his justice when he could
himself direct its effects, the modifications he had adopted
with regard to applications for the formerly terrible ukases,
warranted the belief that he was not mistaken. But even
without this powerful element of success in regard to the
Tartar rebellion, circumstances were not the less very
serious; for it was to be feared that a large part of the
Kirghiz population would join the rebels.
The Kirghiz are divided into three hordes, the greater,
the lesser, and the middle, and number nearly four hundred
thousand " tents," or two million souls. Of the different
tribes some are independent and others recognize either the
sovereignty of Russia or that of the khans of Khiva,
Khokhand, and Bokhara, the most formidable chiefs of
Turkestan. The middle horde, the richest, is also the
largest, and its encampments occupy all the space between
the rivers Sara Sou, Irtish, and the Upper Ishim, Lake
Saisaug and Lake Aksakal. The greater horde, occupying
the countries situated to the east of the middle one, extends
as far as the governments of Omsk and Tobolsk. There-
fore if the Kirghiz population should rise it would be the
rebellion of Asiatic Russia, and the first thing would be
the separation of Siberia, to the east of the Yenisei.
It is true that these Kirghiz, mere novices in the art of
war, are rather nocturnal thieves and plunderers of cara-
MICHAEL STUOGOFF.
Mins than regular soldiers. As M. Levchinesays: " A firm
front or a square of good infantry could repel ten times the
number of Kirghiz, and a single cannon might destroy a
frightful number. **
That may be; but to do this it is necessary for the
square of good infantry to reach the rebellious country
and the cannon to leave the arsenals of the Eussian
provinces, perhaps two or three thousand versts distant.
Now. except by the direct route from Ekaterenburg to
Irkutsk, the often marshy steppes are not easily prac-
ticable, and some weeks must certainly pass before the
Russian troops could be in a position to subdue the Tartar
hordes.
Omsk is the center of that military organization of
Western Siberia which is intended to overawe the Kirghiz
population. Here are the bounds, more than once in-
fringed by the half -subdued nomads, and there was every
reason to believe that Om.>k was already in danger. The
line of military stations, that is to say, those Cossack posts
which are ranged in echelon from Omsk to Semipolatinsk,
must have been broken in several places. Now, it was
to be feared that the "grand sultans" who govern the
Kirghiz districts would either voluntarily accept or invol-
untarily submit to the dominion of Tartars, Mussulmen
like themselves, and that to the hate caused by the slavery
was not united the hate due to the antagonism of the
Greek and Mussulman religions. For some time, indeed,
the Tartars of Turkestan, and principally those from the
khanate of Bokhara, Khiva, Khokhand, and Koondooz,
endeavored, by employing both force and persuasion, to
subdue the Kirghiz hordes to the Muscovite dominion.
A few words only with respect to these Tartars.
The Tartars belong more especially to two distinct
race-, the Caucasian and Mongolian.
The Caucasian race, which, as Abel de lu'musat says,
RUSSIANS AND TARTARS. 21
" is regarded in Europe as the type of beauty in oui
species, because all the nations in this part of the world
have sprung from it," unites under the same denomination
the Turks and the natives of Persia.
The purely Mongolian race comprises the Mongols,
Manchoux, and Thibetans.
The Tartars, who now threatened the Russian Empire,
belonged to the Caucasian race and occupied Turkestan.
This immense country is divided into different states,
governed by khans, and hence termed khanats. The
principal khanats are those of Bokhara, Khokhand, Koon-
dooz, etc.
At this period the most important and the most formi-
dable khanat was that of Bokhara. Russia had already
been several times at war with its chiefs, who for their
own interests had supported the independence of the
Kirghiz against the Muscovite dominion. The present
chief, Feofar-Khan, followed in the steps of his prede-
cessors.
The khanat of Bokhara extends from north to south
between the thirty-seventh and forty-first parallels, and
from east to west between the sixty-first and sixty-sixth
degrees of longitude, that is to say, over a space of nearly
ten thousand square leagues.
This state has a population of two million five hundred
thousand inhabitants, an army of sixty thousand men,
trebled in time of war, and thirty thousand horsemen.
It is a rich country, with various animal, vegetable, and
mineral productions, and has been increased by the acces-
sion of the territories of Balkh, Aukoi, and Meimaneh. It
possesses nineteen large towns. Bokhara, surrounded by a
wall measuring more than eight English miles and flanked
with towers, a glorious city made illustrious by Avicenna
and other learned men of the tenth century, is regarded as
the center of Mussulman science and ranks among the
MICHAEL 8TB000FF
most celebrated cities of Central Ann. Samarcand, which
contains the tomb of Tamerlane and the famous palace
win-re the blue Btone is kepi on which each new khan must
seal himself on his accession, is defended by a very strong
citadel. Karachi, with its triple cordon, situated in an
oasis surrounded by a marsh peopled with tortoises and
lizards, is almost impregnable. Is-chardjoui is defended
hv a population of nearly twenty thousand souls. In
short. Katta-Kourgan, Nourata, Djizah, Paikande, Kara-
koul. Khouzar, etc., form a collection of towns of an almost
impregnable character. Protected by its mountains and
isolated by its steppes, the khanat of Bokhara is a most
formidable state; and Russia would need a large force to
subdue it.
The fierce and ambitious Feofar now governed this
corner of Tartary. Relying on the other khans — prin-
cipally those of Khokhand and Koondooz, cruel and
rapacious warriors all ready to join an enterprise so dear to
Tartar instincts — aided by the chiefs who ruled all the
hordes of Central Asia, he had placed himself at the head
of the rebellion of which Ivan Ogarefi was the instigator.
This traitor, impelled by insane ambition as much as by
hate, had ordered the movement so as to intercept the
route, to Siberia. Mad indeed he was if he hoped to
attack the Muscovite Empire. Acting under his sugges-
tion, the emir — which is the title taken by the khans of
Bokhara — had poured his hordes over the Russian frontier.
He invaded the government of Semipolatinsk, and the
sacks, who were only in small force there, had been
obliged to retire before him. lie had advanced further
than Lake Balkhash, gaining over the Kirghiz population
in his way. Pillaging, ravaging, enrolling those who sub-
mitted, taking prisoners those who resisted, he marched
from one town to another, followed by those impedimenta
of Oriental sovereignty which may be called his household,
RUSSIANS AND TARTARS. 23
Iiis wives and his slaves — all with the cool audacity of a
modern Ghengis-Khan. It was impossible to ascertain
where he now was, how far his soldiers had marched
before the news of the rebellion reached Moscow, or to
what part of Siberia the Russian troops had been forced
to retire. All communication was interrupted. Had the
wire between Kalyvan and Tomsk been cut by Tartar
scouts, or had the emir himself arrived at the Yeniseisk
provinces? Was all the lower part of Western Siberia in
a ferment? Had the rebellion already spread to the
eastern regions? No one could say. The only agent
which fears neither cold nor heat, which can neither be
stopped by the rigors of winter nor the .heat of summer,
and which flies with the rapidity of lightning — the electric
current — was prevented from traversing the steppes, and it
was no longer possible to warn the grand duke, shut up in
Irkutsk, of the danger threatening him from the treason
of Ivan Ogareff.
A courier only could supply the place of the interrupted
current. It would take this man sometime to traverse the
five thousand two hundred versts between Moscow and
Irkutsk. To pass the ranks of the rebels and invaders he
must display almost superhuman courage and intelligence.
But with a clear head and a firm heart much can be done-.
" Shall I be able to find this head and heart?" thought
the czar.
24 MICHAEL 8TR0Q0F1
( 1 1 AFTER III.
MICHAEL STROGOFF I N'liloDl ( KD TO THE CZAR.
The door of the imperial cabinet was again opened and
General KissofE was announced.
" The courier?" inquired the czar eagerly.
" He is here, sire," replied General Kissoff.
"Have you found a fitting man?"
"I will answer for him to your majesty."
u I las he been in the service of the palace?"
"Yes, sire."
"You know him?"
" Personally, and at various times he has fulfilled difficult
missions with success."
"Abroad?"
"In Siberia itself."
" Where does lie come from?"
" From Omsk. He is a Siberian."
"Has he coolness, intelligence, courage?"
" Yea, sire: lie 1ms all the qualities necessary to succeed,
even where others might possibly fail."
" What is his age?"
" Thirty."
"Is he Btrong and vigorous ?"
"Sire, he can bear e<»]d, hunger, thirst, fatigue, to the
ven Lasl extremities."
u He must have a frame of iron."
(t Sire, he has."
-And a heart?"
INTRODUCED TO THE CZAR. 25
"A heart of gold."
"His name?"
"Michael Strogoff."
" Is he ready to set out?"
"He awaits your majesty's orders in the guard-room. "
" Let him come in," said the czar.
In a few moments Michael Strogolf, the courier, entered
the imperial library.
Michael Strogolf was a tall, vigorous, broad-shouldered,
deep-chested man. His powerful head possessed the fine
features of the Caucasian race. His well-knit frame
seemed built for the performance of feats of strength. It
would have been a difficult task to move such a man
against his will, for when his feet were once planted on
the ground, it was as if they had taken root. As he
doffed his Muscovite cap, locks of thick curly hair fell over
his broad, massive forehead. When his ordinarily pale
face became at all flushed, it arose solely from a more rapid
action of the heart, under the influence of a quicker cir-
culation. His eyes, of a deep blue, looked with clear,
frank, firm gaze. The slightly contracted eyebrows in-
dicated lofty heroism — " the hero's cool courage," accord-
ing to the definition of the physiologist. He possessed a
fine nose, with large nostrils, and a well-shaped mouth,
with the slightly projecting lips which denote a generous
and noble heart.
Michael Strogoff had the temperament of the man of
action, who does not bite his nails or scratch his head in
doubt and indecision. Sparing of gestures as of words, he
always stood motionless like a soldier before his superior;
but when he moved, his step showed a firmness, a freedom
of movement which proved the confidence and vivacity of
his mind.
Michael Strogolf wore a handsome military uniform
something resembling that of a light-cavalry officer in the
MICHAEL STROGOFF.
field— boots, spurs, half-tightly fitting trousers, brown
pelisse trimmed with fur and ornamented with yellow
braid. On his breast glittered a cross and several medals.
Michael StrogofE belonged to the Bpecial corps of the
czar's couriers, ranking as an officer among those picked
men. His most discernible characteristic— particularly in
his walk, his i'acc in the whole man, and which the czar
perceived at a glance — was that he was "a fulfiller of
orders." He therefore possessed one of the most serviceable
qualities in Russia — one which., as the celebrated novelist
TourguenefE says, " will lead to the highest positions in the
Muscovite Empire. "
In short, if any one could accomplish this journey from
Moscow to Irkutsk across a rebellious country, surmount
obstacles and brave perils of all sorts, Michael Strogoff was
the man.
A circumstance especially favorable to the success of his
plans was that he was thoroughly acquainted with the
country which he was about to traverse and understood its
different dialects — not only from having traveled there
before, but because he was of Siberian origin.
His father — old Peter Strogoff, dead ten years since —
inhabited the town of Omsk, situated in the government
of the same name, and his mother, Marfa Strogoff, lived
there still. There, amid the wild steppes of the provinces
of Omsk and Tobolsk, had the famous huntsman brought
up his son Michael to endure hardship. Peter Strogoff was
a huntsman by profession. Summer and winter — in the
burning heat as well as when the cold was sometimes fifty
degrees below zero — he scoured the frozen plains, the
thickets of birch and larch, the pine forests; setting traps,
watching for small game with his gun and for large game
with the spear or knife. The large game was nothing less
than the Siberian bear, a formidable and ferocious animal,
in size equaling its fellow of the frozen seas. Peter
INTRODUCED TO THE CZAR. 27
Strogoff had killed more than thirty-nine bears — that is
to say, the fortieth had fallen under his blows; and ac-
cording to Kussian legends, most huntsmen who ha\re
been lucky enough up to the thirty-ninth bear have suc-
cumbed to the fortieth.
Peter Strogoff had, however, passed the fatal number
without even a scratch. From that time his son Michael,
aged eleven years, never failed to accompany him to the
hunt, carrying -the ragatina, or spear, ready to come to the
aid of his father, who was armed only with the knife.
When he was fourteen Michael Strogoff had killed his first
bear quite alone — that was nothing; but after stripping it
he dragged the gigantic animal's skin to his father's house,
many versts distant, thus exhibiting remarkable strength
in a boy so young.
This style of life was of great benefit to him, and when
he arrived at manhood he could bear any amount of cold,
heat, hunger, thirst, or fatigue. Like the Yakout of the
northern countries, he was made of iron. He could go
twenty-four hours without eating, ten nights without
sleeping, and could make himself a shelter in the open
steppe where others would have been frozen to death.
Gifted with marvelous acutencss, guided by the instinct
of the Delaware of North America over the white plain
when every object is hidden in mist, or even in higher
latitudes, where the polar night is prolonged for many
days, he could find his way when others would have had
no idea whither to direct their steps. All his father's
secrets were known to him. He had learned to read almost
imperceptible signs — the forms of icicles, the appearance of
the small branches of trees, mists rising far away in the
horizon, vague sounds in the air, distant reports, the flight
of birds through the foggy atmosphere, a thousand circum-
stances which are so many words to those who can decipher
them. Moreover, tempered by snow like a Damascus
M1VHAEL STROGOFl*.
blade in the waters of Syria, he bad a frame of iron, as
General KissofE had said, and, what was no less true, a
heart of gold.
The only sentiment of love felt by Michael Strogoff was
that which he entertained for bis mother, the aged Marfa,
who could never be induced to leave the house of the
Strogoffeal Omsk, on the banks of the Irtish, where the
old huntsman and she had lived so long together. When
her son left her he went away with a full heart, but promis-
ing to come and see her whenever he could possibly do so;
and this promise he had always religiously kept.
When Michael was twenty it was decided that he should
enter the personal service of the Emperor of Russia in the
corps of the couriers of the czar. The hard}-, intelligent,
zealous, well-conducted young Siberian first distinguished
himself especially in a journey to the Caucasus, through
the midst of a difficult country ravaged by some restless
successors of Schamyl; then later in an important mission
to Petropolowski, in Kamtschatka, the extreme limit of
Asiatic Russia. During these long journeys he displayed
such marvelous coolness, prudence, and courage as to gain
him the approbation and protection of his chiefs, who
rapidly advanced him in his profession.
The furloughs which were his due after these distant
missions, although he might be separated from her by
thousands of versts and winter had rendered the roads
almost impassable, he never failed to devote to his old
mother. Having been much employed in the south of the
empire, he had not seen old Marfa for three years — three
ages! —the first time in his life he had been so long absent
from her. Now, however, in a few days he would obtain
his furlough, and he had accordingly already made prepara-
tions for departure for Omsk, when the events which have
been related occurred. Michael Strogoff was therefore in-
troduced into the czar's presence in complete ignorance of
what the emperor expected from him.
INTRODUCED TO THE CZAR. 29
The czar fixed a penetrating look upon him without
uttering a word, while Michael stood perfectly motionless.
The czar, apparently satisfied with his scrutiny, went to
his bureau, and motioning to the chief of police to seat
himself, dictated in a low voice a letter of not more than a
few lines.
The letter penned, the czar reread it attentively, then
signed it, preceding his name with the words " Byt po
semou," which, signifying " So be it," constitute the de-
cisive formula of the Russian emperors.
The letter was then placed in an envelope, which was
»ealed with the imperial arms.
The czar, rising, told Michael Strogoff to draw near.
Michael advanced a few steps and then stood motionless,
ready to answer.
The czar again looked him full in the face and their eyes
met. Then in an abrupt tone:
" Thy name?" he asked.
" Michael Strogoff, sire."
" Thy rank?"
" Captain in the corps of couriers of the czar."
"Thou dost know Siberia?"
"lam a Siberian."
" A native of "
"Omsk, sire."
"Hast thou relations there?"
"Yes, sire."
" What relations?"
" My old mother."
The czar suspended his questions for a moment. Then,
pointing to the letter which he held in his hand:
"Here is a letter which I charge thee, Michael Strogoff,
to deliver into the hands of the grand duke, and to no
other but him."
"I will deliver it, sire."
30 Midi ML STROGOFF.
"The grand duke is at Irkutsk."
" I will go to Irkutsk/'
" Thou wilt have to traverses rebellious country invaded
bv Tartars, whose interest it will be to intercept this
letter."
" 1 will traverse it."
"Above all, beware of the traitor Ivan Ogareff, who
will pei-hap- meet thee on the way."
u 1 will beware of him."
" Wilt thou pass through Omsk?"
" Sire, that is my route."
"If thou dost see thy mother, there will be the risk of
being recognized. Thou must not see her!"
Michael Strogoff hesitated a moment.
" I will not see her," said he.
" Swear to me that nothing will make thee acknowledge
who thou art nor whither thou art going."
"I swear it."
"Michael Strogoff," continued the czar, giving the let-
ter to the young courier, " take this letter. On it depends
the safety of all Siberia and perhaps the life of my brother
the grand duke."
"This letter shall be delivered to his highness the
grand duke."
"Then thou wilt pass whatever happens?"
" I shall pass or they shall kill me."
"1 want thee to live."
" I shall live and I shall pass," answered Michael
Strogoff.
The czar appeared satisfied with Strogoff's calm and
simple answer.
"Go then, Michael Strogoff," said he, "go for God, for
Russia, for my brother, and for myself!"
The courier, having saluted his sovereign, immediately
left the imperial cabinet and in a few minutes the Xew
Palace.
INTRODUCED TO THE CZAR. 31
..
You made a good choice there, general," said the czar.
"I think so, sire," replied General Kissoff; "and your
majesty may be sure that Michael Strogoff will do all that
a man can do."
" He is indeed a man," said the czar.
3- MICHAEL STROOOFF.
CHAPTER IV.
FROM MOSCOW TO NIJNI-NOVGOROD.
The distance between Moscow and Irkutsk, about to be
traversed by Michael Strogoff, was five thousand two
hundred versts. Before the telegraph wire extended from
the Ural Mountains to the eastern frontier of Siberia the
dispatch service was performed by couriers, those who
traveled the most rapidly taking eighteen days to get from
Moscow to Irkutsk. But this was the exception, and the
journey through Asiatic Russia usually occupied from four
to five weeks, even though every available means of trans-
port was placed at the disposal of the czar's messengers.
Michael Strogoff was a man who feared neither frost nor
snow. He would have preferred traveling during the
severe winter season, in order that he might perform the
whole distance by sleighs. At that period of the year the
difficulties which all other means of locomotion present
are greatly diminished, the wide steppes being leveled by
snow, while there are no rivers to cross, but simply sheets
of glass, over which the sleigh glides rapidly and easily.
Perhaps certain natural phenomena are most to be
feared at that time, such as long-continuing and dense
fogs, excessive cold, fearfully heavy snow-storms, which
sometimes envelop whole caravans and cause their destruc-
tion. Hungry wolves also roam over the plain in thou-
sands. But it would have been better for Michael Strogoff
to face these risks; for during the winter the Tartar in-
vaders would have been stationed in the towns, their
marauding bands would not be overrunning the steppes,
FROM M0800 W TO NIJNI-NO VGOROD. 33
any movement of the troops would have been imprac-
ticable, and he could consequently have more easily per-
formed his journey. But it was not in his power to choose
either his own weather or his own time. Whatever
were the circumstances, he must accept them and set out.
Such were the difficulties which Michael Strogoff boldly
confronted and prepared to encounter.
In the first place, he must not travel as a courier of the
czar usually would. No one must even suspect what he
really was. Spies swarm in a rebellious country; let him
be recognized, and his mission would be in danger. Also,
while supplying him with a large sum of money, which
was sufficient for his journey and would facilitate it in
some measure, General Kissoff had not given him any
document notifying that he was on the emperor's service,
which is the sesame par excellence. He contented himself
with furnishing him with a podorojna.
This podorojna was made out in the name of Nicholas
Korpanoff, merchant, living at Irkutsk. It authorized
Nicholas Korpanoff to be accompanied if requisite by one
or more persons, and, moreover, it was, by special notifica-
tion, made available in the event of the Muscovite govern-
ment forbidding natives of any other countries to leave
Russia.
The podorojna is simply a permission to take post-
horses; but Michael Strogoff was not to use it unless he
was sure that by so doing he would not excite suspicion as
to his mission, that • is to say, while he was on European
territory. The consequence was that in Siberia, while
traversing the insurgent provinces, he would have no power
over the relays, either in the choice of horses in preference
to others or in demanding conveyances for his personal use;
neither was Michael Strogoff to forget that he was no
longer a courier, but a plain merchant, Nicholas Korpanoff,
traveling from Moscow to Irkutsk, and as such exposed to
all the impediments of an ordinary journey.
o4 MICHAEL sritUUOFF
To pass unknown, more or less rapidly, but to pass some-
how or other, such were the directions he had received.
Thirty years previously the escort of a traveler of rank
consisted of not less than two hundred mounted Cossacks,
two hundred foot-soldiers, twenty-five Baskir horsemen,
three hundred camels, four hundred horses, twenty-five
wagons, two portable boats, and two pieces of cannon.
All this was requisite for a Journey in Siberia.
Michael Strogolf, however, had neither cannon, nor
horsemen, nor foot-soldiers, nor beasts of burden. He
would travel in a carriage or on horseback when he could,
on foot when he could not.
There would be no difficulty in getting over the first
fifteen hundred versts, the distance between Moscow and
the Russian frontier. Railroads, post-carriages, steam-
boats, relays of horses, were at every one's disposal, and
consequently at the disposal of the courier of the czar.
Accordingly, on the morning of the 16th of July, having
doffed his uniform, with a knapsack on his back, dressed
in the simple Russian costume — tightly fitting tunic, the
traditional belt of the mujik, wide trousers, gartered at the
knees, and high boots — Michael Strogoff arrived at the
station in time for the first train. He carried no arms,
openly at least, but under his belt was hidden a revolver
and in his pocket one of those large knives, resembling
both a cutlass and a yataghan, with which a Siberian
hunter can so neatly disembowel a bear without injuring
its precious fur. •
A crowd of travelers had collected at the Moscow station.
The stations on the Russian railroads are much used as
places for meeting, not only by those who are about to pro-
ceed by the train, but by friends who come to see them off.
It indeed resembles, from the variety of characters assem-
bled, a small news exchange.
The train in which Michael took his place was to set
FROM MOSCOW TO NIJNI-N0VG0110D. 35
him down at Nijni-Novgorod. There terminated, at that
time, the iron road which, uniting Moscow and St. Peters-
burg, will eventually continue to the Russian frontier. It
was a journey of about four hundred versts, and the train
would accomplish it in ten hours. Once arrived at Nijni-
Novgorod, Strogoff would, according to circumstances,
either take the land route or the steamer on the Volga so as
to reach the Ural Mountains as soon as possible.
Michael Strogoff ensconced himself in his corner, like a
worthy citizen whose affairs go well with him and who en-
deavors to kill time by sleep.
Nevertheless, as he was not alone in his compartment,
he slept with one eye open and listened with both his ears.
In fact, rumor of the rising of the Kirghiz hordes and of
the Tartar invasion had transpired in some degree. The
occupants of the carriage, whom chance had made his trav-
eling companions, discussed the subject, though with that
caution which has become habitual among Russians, who
know that spies are ever on the watch for any treasonable
expressions which may be uttered.
These travelers, as well as the larger number of persons
in the train, were merchants on their way to the celebrated
fair of Nijni-Novgorod— a very mixed assembly, composed
of Jews, Turks, Cossacks, Russians, Georgians, Kalmucks,
and others, but nearly all speaking the national tongue.
They discussed the pros and cons of the serious events
which were taking place beyond the Ural, and those mer-
chants seemed to fear lest the government should be led to
take certain restrictive measures, especially in the prov-
inces bordering on the frontier— measures from which
trade would certainly suffer.
It must be confessed that those selfish individuals
thought only of the war, that is to say, the suppression of
the revolt and the struggle against the invasion, from the
single point of view of their threatened interests. The
36 MICHAEL STROOOFF.
presence of b private soldier clad in his uniform — and the
importance of a uniform in Russia is great — would have
certainly been enough to restrain the merchants' tongues.
Hut in the compartment occupied by Michael Strogoff
there was no one who could even be suspected of being a
military man, and the czar's courier was not the person to
betray himself. He listened, then.
"They say that caravan teas are up," remarked a Per-
sian, known by his cap of Astrakhan fur and his ample
brown robe, worn threadbare by use.
"Oh, there's no fear of teas falling," answered an old
Jew of sullen aspect. " Those in the market at Nijni-
Novgorod will be easily cleared off by the West; but, un-
fortunately, it won't be the same with Bokhara carpets."
" What! are you expecting goods from Bokhara?" asked
the Persian.
" No, but from Samarcand, and that is even more ex-
posed. The idea of reckoning on the exports of a country
in which the khans are in a state of revolt from Khiva to
the Chinese frontier!"
" Well," replied the Persian, " if the carpets do not ar-
rive the drafts will not arrive either, I suppose."
" And the profits — Father Abraham!" exclaimed the lit-
tr^ Jew, "do you reckon them as nothing?"
" You are right," said another traveler. " Goods from
Central Asia run a great risk of falling in the market, and
it will be the same with the Samarcand carpets as with the
wools, tallow, and shawls from the East."
"Why, look out, little father," said a Russian traveler
in a bantering tone. " You'll grease your shawls terribly if
you mix them up with your tallow."
"That amuses you," sharply answered the merchant,
who had little relish for that sorl of joke.
"Well, if you tear your hair or throw ashes on your
head/' replied the traveler, "will that change the course
of events? No; no more than the course of the exchange."
FROM MOSCO W TO NIJNI-NO VQ OROD. 3 »>
" One can easily see that you are not a merchant," ob-
served the little Jew.
"Faith, no, worthy son of Abraham! I sell neither
hops nor eider-down, nor honey, nor wax, nor hemp-seed,
nor salt meat, nor caviare, nor wood, nor wool, nor ribbons,
nor hemp, nor flax, nor morocco, nor furs "
"But do you buy them?" asked the Persian, interrupt-
ing the traveler's list.
"As little as I can, and only for my own private use,"
answered the other, with a wink.
u He's a wag," said the Jew to the Persian.
" Or a spy," replied the other, lowering his voice. " We
had better take care and not speak more than necessary.
The police are not over-particular in these times, and you
never can know with whom you are traveling."
In another corner of the compartment they wer^
speaking less of mercantile affairs and more of the Tartar
invasion and its annoying consequences.
"All the horses in Siberia will be requisitioned," said
a traveler, " and communication between the different
provinces of Central Asia will become very difficult."
"Is it true," asked his neighbor, "that the Kirghiz of
the middle horde have made common cause with the
Tartars?"
"So it is said," answered the traveler, lowering his
voice; "but who can flatter themselves that they know
anything really of what is going on in this country?"
" I have heard speak of a concentration of troops on
the frontier. The Don Cossacks have already gathered
along the course of the Volga, and they are to be opposed
to the rebel Kirghiz."
" If the Kirghiz descend the Irtish the route to Irkutsk
will not be safe," observed his neighbor. " Besides, yester-
day I wanted to send a telegram to Krasnoiarsk, and it
eould not be forwarded. It's to be feared that before long
he Tartar columns will have isolated Eastern Siberia."
MtCHAEL STROOOFF
'• In short, little father, " continued the first speaker,
u these merchants have good reason for being uneasy
about their trade and transactions. After requisitioning
the horses they will requisition the boats, carriages, every
means of transport, until the time will come when no one
will be allowed to take even one step throughout all the
empire."
" I'm much afraid that the Nijni-Novgorod fair won't
end as brilliantly as it has begun," responded the other,
shaking his head. " But the safety and integrity of the
Russian territory before everything. Business is only
business."
If in this compartment the subject of conversation
varied but little — nor did it, indeed, in the other carriages
of the train — in all it might have been observed that the
talkers used much circumspection. When they did hap-
pen to venture out of the region of facts, they never went
so far as to attempt to divine the intentions of the Musco-
vite government or even to criticise them.
This was especially remarked by a traveler in a carriage
at the front part of the train. This person — evidently a
stranger — made good use of his eyes and asked numberless
questions, to which he received only evasive answers*
Every minute leaning out of the window, which he would
keep down, to the great disgust of his fellow-travelers, he
lost nothing of the views to the right. He inquired the
names of the most insignificant places, their position, what
were their commerce, their manufactures, the number of
their inhabitants, the average mortality, etc., and all this
he wrote down in a note-book, already full of memoranda.
This was the correspondent Alcide Jolivet, and the
reason of his putting so many insignificant questions was
that among the many answers he received he hoped to
find some interesting fact " for his cousin.'' But, naturally
enough, he was taken for a spy, and not a word treating of
the events of the day was uttered in his hearing.
FROM MOSCOW TO NIJNI-NOVOOROD. 39
Finding, therefore, that he could learn nothing in rela-
tion to the Tartar invasion, he wrote in his note-book:
" Travelers of great discretion. Very close as to political
matters."
While Alcide Jolivet noted down his impressions thus
minutely, his confrere, in the same train, traveling for the
same object, was devoting himself to the same work of
observation in another compartment. Neither of them
had seen each other that day at the Moscow station, and
they were each ignorant that the other had set out to visit
the scene of the war. Harry Blount, speaking little, but
listening much, had not inspired his companions with the
suspicions which Alcide Jolivet had aroused. He was not
taken for a spy, and therefore his neighbors, without con-
straint, gossiped in his presence, allowing themselves even
to go further than their natural caution would in most cases
have allowed them. The correspondent of the Daily
Telegraph had thus an opportunity of observing how
much recent events preoccupied the party of merchants
who were on their way to Nijni-Novgorod, and to what a
degree the commerce with Central Asia was threatened in
its transit.
He therefore did not hesitate to note in his book this
perfectly correct observation:
" My fellow-travelers extremely anxious. Nothing is
talked of but war, and they speak of it, with a freedom
which is astonishing, as having broken out between the
Volga and the Vistula."
The readers of the Daily Telegraph would not fail to be
as well informed as Alcide Jolivet's " cousin."
And, moreover, as Harry Blount, seated at the ieft of
the train, only saw one part of the country, which was
hilly, without giving himself the trouble of looking at tne
right side, which was composed of wide plains, he added,
with British assurance:
40 MICHAEL STROGOFF.
" Country mountainous between Moscow and Wladimir."
It was evident that the Russian Government purposed
taking severe measures to guard against any serious
eventualities, even in the interior of the empire. The
rebellion had not crossed the Siberian frontier, but evil
influences might be feared in the Volga provinces, so near
to the country of the Kirghiz.
The police had as yet found no traces of Ivan Ogareff.
It was not known whether the traitor, calling in the
foreigner to avenge his personal rancor, had rejoined
Feofar-Khan or whether he was endeavoring to foment a
revolt in the government of Nijni-Novgorod, which at
this time of year contained a population of such diverse
elements. Perhaps among the Persians, Armenians, or
Kalmucks who nocked to the great market he had agents,
instructed to provoke a rising in the interior. All this was
possible, especially in such a country as Russia. In fact,
this vast empire, of nearly forty-eight hundred thousand
square miles in extent, does not possess the homogeneous-
ness of the states of Western Europe. Among the many
nations of which it is composed there exist necessarily many
shades. The Russian territory in Europe, Asia, and
America extends from the fifteenth degree east longitude
to the hundred and thirty-third degree west longitude, or
an extent of nearly two hundred degrees, and from the
thirty-eighth south parallel to the eighty-first north
parallel, or forty-three degrees. It contains more than
seventy millions of inhabitants. In it thirty diiferent
languages are spoken. The Slavonian race predominates,
no doubt, but there are besides Russians, Poles, Lithua-
nians, Courlanders. Add to these Finns, Laplanders,
Esthonians, several other northern tribes with unpronounce-
able names, the Permiaks, the Germans, the Greeks, the
Tartars, the Caucasian tribes, the Mongol, Kalmuck,
Samoid, Kamtschatkan, and Aleutian hordes, and one
FROM MOSCOW TO NIJNI-NOVOOROD. 41
may understand that the unity of so vast a state must have
been difficult to maintain, and that it could only have been
the work of time, aided by the wisdom of many successive
rulers.
Be that as it may, Ivan Ogareff had hitherto managed to
escape all search, and very probably he might have rejoined
the Tartar army. But at every station where the train
stopped inspectors came forward who scrutinized the
travelers and subjected them all to a minute examination,
as by order of the superintendent of police these officials
were seeking Ivan Ogareff. The government, in fact, be-
lieved it to be certain that the traitor had not yet been able
to quit European Russia. If there appeared cause to sus-
pect any traveler, he was carried off to explain himself at
the police station, and in the mean time the train went on
its way, no person troubling himself about the unfortunate
one left behind.
With the Russian police, which is very arbitrary, it is
absolutely useless to argue. Military rank is conferred on
its employees and they act in military fashion. How can
any one, moreover, help obeying unhesitatingly orders
which emanate from a monarch who has the right to em-
ploy this formula at the head of his ukase: " We, by the
grace of. God Emperor and Autocrat of all the Russias, of
Moscow, Kiev, Wladimir, and Novgorod, Czar of Kasan
and Astrakhan, Czar of Poland, Czar of Siberia, Czar of
the Tauric Chersonese, Seignior of Pskov, Prince of
Smolensk, Lithuania, Volkynia, Podolia, and Finland,
Prince of Esthonia, Livonia, Courland, and of Semigallia,
of Bialystok, Karelia, Sougria, Perm, Viatka, Bulgaria,
and many other countries; Lord and Sovereign Prince of
the territory of Nijni-Novgorod, Tchemigoff, Riazan,
Polotsk, Rostov, Jaroslavl, Bielozersk, Oudoria, Obdoria,
Kondinia, Vitepsk, and of Mstislaf, Governor of the Hy-
perborean Regions, Lord of the countries of Iveria, Kar-
42 MICHAEL ST 1100 OFF.
talinia, Grouzinia, Kabardinia, and Armenia, Hereditary
Lord and Suzerain of the Scherkess princes, of those of the
mountain.-, and of others; heir of Norway, Duke of Schles-
wig-IIolstein, Stormarn, Dittmarsen, and Oldenburg." A
powerful lord, in truth, is lie whose arms are an eagle with
twTo heads, holding a scepter and a globe surrounded by
the escutcheons of Novgorod, Wladimir, Kiev, Kasan,
Astrakhan, and of Siberia, and environed by the collar of
the order of St. Andrew surmounted by a royal crown!
As to Michael Strogoff, his papers were in order and he
was, consequently, free from all police supervision.
At the station of Wladimir the train stopped for several
minutes, which appeared sufficient to enable the correspond-
ent of the Daily Telegraph to take a twofold view, phys-
ical and moral, and to form a complete estimate of this
ancient capital of Russia.
At the Wladimir station fresh travelers entered the train.
Among others, a young girl presented herself at the door of
the compartment occupied by Michael Strogoff.
A vacant place was found opposite the courier of the
czar. The young girl took it after placing by her side a
modest traveling-bag of red leather, which seemed to con-
stitute all her luggage. Then seating herself with down-
cast eyes, not even glancing at the fellow-travelers whom
chance had given her, she prepared for a journey which
was still to last several hours.
Michael Strogoff could not help looking attentively at
his newly arrived fellow-traveler. As she was so placed as
to travel with her back to the engine, he even offered her
his seat, which she might prefer to her own, but she
thanked him with a slight bend of her graceful neck.
The young girl appeared to be about sixteen or seven-
teen years of age. Her head, truly charming, was of the
purest Slavonic type — slightly severe, and which would,
when a few summers should have passed over her, unfold
FROM MOSGO W TO NIJNI-NO VGOROD. 43
into beauty rather than mere prettiness. From beneath a
sort of kerchief which she wore on her head escaped in
profusion light golden hair. Her eyes were brown, soft,
and expressive of much sweetness of temper. The nose
was straight and attached to her pale and somewhat thin
cheeks by delicately mobile nostrils. The lips were finely
cut, but it seemed as if they had long since forgotten how
to smile.
The young traveler was tall and upright, as far as could
be judged of her figure from the very simple and ample
pelisse that covered her. Although she was still a very
young girl in the literal sense of the term, the develop-
ment of her high forehead and clearly cut features gave '
the idea that she was the possessor of great moral energy —
a point which did not escape Michael Strogoff. Evidently
this young girl had already suffered in the past, and the
future doubtless did not present itself to her in glowing
colors, but it was none the less certain that she had known
how to struggle still with the trials of life. Her energy
was evidently both prompt and persistent, and her calm-
ness unalterable, even under circumstances in which a
man would be likely to give way or lose his self-command.
Such was the impression which she produced at first
sight. Michael Strogoff, being himself of an energetic
temperament, was naturally struck by the character of her
physiognomy, and while taking care not to cause her
annoyance by a too persistent gaze, he observed his neigh-
bor with no small interest. The costume of the young
traveler was both extremely simple and appropriate. She
was not rich — that could be easily seen; but not the
slightest mark of negligence was to be discerned in her
dress. All her luggage was contained in a leather bag
under lock and key, and which, for want of room, she held
on her lap.
She wore a long, dark pelisse, which was gracefully
44 MICHAEL STROGOFF.
adjusted at the neck by a blue tie. Under this pelisse
a Bhort skirt, also dark, fell over a robe which reached to
the ankles, and of which the lower edge was ornamented
with some simple embroidery. Half-boots of worked
leather and thickly soled, as if chosen in the anticipation
of a long journey, covered her small feet.
Michael Strogoff fancied that he recognized, by certain
details, the fashion of the costume of Livonia, and he
thought that his neighbor must be a native of the Baltic
provinces.
But whither was this young girl going alone, at an age
when the fostering care of a father or the protection of a
brother is considered a matter of necessity? Had she
now come, after an already long journey, from the provinces
of Western Russia? Was she merely going to Nijni-Nov-
gorod or was the end of her travels beyond the eastern
frontiers of the empire? Would some relation, some
friend, await her arrival by the train? Or was it not more
probable, on the contrary, that she would find herself as
much isolated in the towrn as she was in this compartment,
where no one — she must think — appeared to care for her?
It was probable.
In fact, the effect of habits contracted in solitude was
clearly manifested in the bearing of the young girl. The
manner in which she entered the carriage and prepared
herself for the journey, the slight disturbance she caused
among those around her, the care she took not to incom-
mode or give trouble to any one, all showed that she was
accustomed to be alone and to depend on herself only.
Michael Strogoff observed her with interest, but, himself
reserved, he sought no opportunity of accosting her,
although several hours must elapse before the arrival of
the train at Nijni-Novgorod.
Once only, when her neighbor — the merchant who had
jumbled together so imprudently in his remarks tallow and
FROM MO SCO W TO NIJNI- NOVGOROD. 45
shawls — being asleep, and threatening her with his great
head, which was swaying from one shoulder to the other,
Michael Strogoff awoke him somewhat roughly and made
him understand that he must hold himself upright and in
a more convenient posture.
The merchant, rude enough by nature, grumbled some
words against " people who interfere with what does not
concern them," but Michael Strogoff cast on him a glance
so stern that the sleeper leaned on the opposite side and
relieved the young traveler from his unpleasant vicinity.
The latter looked at the young man for an instant, and
mute and modest thanks were in that look.
But a circumstance occurred which gave Michael
Strogoff a just idea of the character of the maiden. Twelve
versts before arriving at the station of Nijni-Novgorod, at
a sharp curve of the iron way, the train experienced a very
violent shock. Then for a minute it ran on to the slope
of an embankment.
Travelers more or less shaken about, cries, confusion,
general disorder in the carriages — such was the effect at
first produced. It was to be feared that some serious ac-
cident had happened. Consequently even before the train
had stopped the doors were opened, and the panic-stricken
passengers thought only of getting out of the carriages and
taking refuge on the line.
Michael Strogoff thought instantly of the young girl,
but while the passengers in her compartment were pre-
cipitating themselves outside, screaming and struggling,
she had remained quietly in her place, her face scarcely
changed by a slight pallor.
She waited — Michael Strogoff waited also.
She had not made any attempt to leave the carriage.
Nor did he move either.
Both remained quiet.
"A determined nature!" thought Michael Strogoff.
ir> MICHAEL 8TR0Q0FF.
However, all danger bad quickly disappeared. A
breakage of the coupling of the Luggage-van had first
caused the shock to and then the stoppage of the train,
which in another instant would have been thrown from the
top of the embankment into a bog. There was an hour's
delay. At last, the road being cleared, the train pro-
ceeded, and at half-past eight in the evening arrived at the
station of Nijni-Novgorod.
He fore any one could get out of the carriages the
inspectors of police presented themselves at the doors and
examined the passaixers.
Michael Strogoff showed his podorojna, made out in the
name of Nicholas Korpanoff. He had consequently no
difficulty.
As to the other travelers in the compartment, all bound
for Nijni-Novgorod, their appearance, happily for them,
was in nowise suspicious.
The young girl in her turn exhibited, not a passport,
since passports are no longer required in Russia, but a
permit indorsed with a private seal, and which seemed to
be of a special character. The inspector read the permit
with attention. Then, having attentively examined the
person whose description it contained:
" You are from Riga?" he said.
" Yes," replied the young girl.
" You are going to Irkutsk?"
" Yes."
"By what route?"
" By Perm."
"Good!" replied the inspector. "Take care to have
your permit vised at the police station of Nijni-Xovgorod."
The young girl bent her head in token of assent.
Hearing these questions and replies, Michael Strogoff
experienced a mingled sentiment both of surprise and pity.
What! this young girl, alone, journeying to that i'ar-efT
FROM MOSGO W TO NIJNI-NO VGOROD. 47
Siberia, and at a time when to its ordinary dangers were
added all the perils of an invaded country and one in a
state of insurrection! How would she reach it? What
would become of her?
The inspection ended, the doors of the carriages were
then opened, but before Michael Strogoff could move
toward her the young Livonian, who had been the first to
descend, had disappeared in the crowd which thronged the
platforms of the railway station.
43 MICHAEL 8TR0G0FF.
CHAPTER V.
THE TWO ANNOUNCEMENTS.
Nijni-Novgorod, Lower Novgorod, situate at the junc-
tion of the Volga and the Oka, is the chief town in the
district of the same name. It was here that Michael
Strogoff was obliged to leave the railway, which at the time
did not go beyond that town. Thus as he advanced his
traveling would become first less speedy and then less safe.
Nijni-Novgorod, the fixed population of which is only
from thirty to thirty-five thousand inhabitants, contained
at that time more than three hundred thousand; that is to
say, the population was increased tenfold. This addition
was in consequence of the celebrated fair which was held
within the walls for three wreeks. Formerly Makariew had
the benefit of this concourse of traders, but since 1817 the
fair had been removed to Nijni-Novgorod.
The town, dreary enough at most times, then presented
a truly animated scene. Six different races of merchants,
European and Asiatic, were fraternizing under the con-
genial influence of trade.
Even at the late hour at which Michael Strogoff left the
platform there was still a large number of people in the two
towns, separated by the stream of the Volga, which com-
pose Nijni-Novgorod, and the highest of which is built on
a steep rock and is defended by one of those forts called in
Russia "krenil."
Had Michael Strogoff been obliged to stay at Nijni-
Novgorod, he would have had some trouble in finding a
THE TWO ANNOUNCEMENTS. 4$
hotel or even an inn to suit him. In the mean time, as he
had not to start immediately, for he was going to take a
steamer, he was compelled to look out for some lodging, but
before doing so he wished to know exactly the hour at
which the steamboat would start. He went to the office of
the company whose boats plied between Nijni-Novgorod
and Perm. There, to his great annoyance, he found that
the Caucasus — for that was the boat's name — did not start
for Perm till the following day at twelve o'clock. Seventeen
hours to wait! It was very vexatious to a man so pressed
for time. However, he resigned himself to circumstances,
for he never senselessly murmured. Besides, the fact was
that no telegue or tarantass, berlin or post-chaise, nor horse
could take him more quickly either to Perm or Kasan. It
would be better, then, to wait for the steamer, a mode of
conveyance far more rapid than any other and which would
enable him to regain lost time.
Here, then, was Michael Strogoff strolling through the
town and quietly looking out for some inn in which to pass
the night. However, he troubled himself little on this
score, and but that hunger pressed him, he would probably
have wandered on till morning in the streets of Nijni-
Novgorod. He was looking for supper rather than a bed.
But he found both at the sign of the City of Constantinople.
There the landlord offered him a fairly comfortable room,
with little furniture, it is true, but which was not without
an image of the Virgin and portraits of a few saints framed
in yellow gauze.
A goose filled with sour stuffing swimming in thick
cream, barley bread, some curds, powdered sugar mixed
with cinnamon, and a jug of kwass, the ordinary Russian
beer, were placed before him and sufficed to satisfy his
hunger. He did justice to the meal, which was more than
could be said of his neighbor at table, who, having in his
character of " old believer" of the sect of Easkalniks made
50 MICHAEL 8TB0G0FF.
the vow of abstinence, rejected the potatoes 02 the dish in
front of him ami carefully refrained from putting sugar in
his tea.
1 1 is supper finished, Michael Strogoff, instead of going
up to his bedroom, again strolled out into the town. But
although the long twilight vet lingered, the crowd was al-
ready dispersing, the streets were gradually becoming
empty, and at length every one retired to his dwelling.
Why did not Michael Strogoff go quietly to bed, as
would have seemed more reasonable after a long railway
journey? Was he thinking of the young Livonian girl
who had for so many hours been his traveling companion?
Having nothing better to do, he was thinking of her. Did
he fear that, lost in this busy city, she might be exposed to
insult? He feared so, and with good reason. Did he
hope to meet her and, if need were, to afford hei jDrotec-
tion? No. To meet would be difficult. As to protection —
what right had he
" Alone," he said to himself, " alone in the midst of
these wandering tribes! And yet the present dangers are
nothing compared to those she must undergo. Siberia!
Irkutsk ! I am about to dare all risks for Russia, for the
czar, while she is about to do so — for whom? For what?
She is authorized to cross the frontier! And the country
beyond is in revolt! The steppes are full of Tartar bands!"
Michael Strogoff stopped for an instant and reflected.
" Without doubt," thought he, "she must have deter-
mined on undertaking her journey before the invasion.
Perhaps she is even now ignorant of what is happening.
But no; that cannot be, for the merchants discussed before
her the disturbances in Siberia — and she did not seem sur-
prised. She did not even ask for an explanation. She
must have known it then, and, though knowing it, she is
still resolute. Poor girl! Her motive for the journey
must be urgent indeed! But though she may be brave — ■
THE TWO ANNOUNCEMENTS. 51
and she certainly is so — her strength must fail her, and to
say nothing of dangers and obstacles, she will be unable to
endure the fatigue of such a journey. Never can she pass
Irkutsk!"
Indulging in such reflections, Michael Strogoff wandered
on as chance led him, but being well acquainted with the
town, he knew that he could without difficulty retrace his
steps.
Having strolled on for about an hour, he seated himself
on a bench against the wall of a large wooden cottage,
which stood, with many others, on a vast open space.
He had scarcely been there five minutes when a hand
was laid heavily on his shoulder.
i( What are you doing here?" roughly demanded a tall
and powerful man who had approached unperceived.
" I am resting," replied Michael Strogoff.
" Do you mean to stay all night on the bench?" asked
the man.
" Yes, if I feel inclined to do so," answered Michael
Strogoff, in a tone somewhat too sharp for the simple mer-
chant he wished to personate.
" Come forward, then, that I may see you," said the
man.
Michael Strogoff, remembering that, above all things,
prudence was necessary, instinctively drew back..
"It is not necessary," he replied; and he calmly stepped
back ten paces or so.
The man seemed, as Michael observed him well, to have
the look of a Bohemian such as are met at fairs, and with
whom contact, either physical or moral, is unpleasant.
Then as he looked more attentively through the dusk
which was coming on he perceived near the cottage a large
caravan, the usual traveling dwelling of the Zingaris or
gypsies who swarm in Russia wherever a few kopecks can
be obtained.
MICHAEL iSTHOGOFF.
As the gypsy took two or three steps forward and was
about to interrogate .Michael Strogoff more closely, the
door of the cottage was opened. He could just see a
woman, who advanced quickly and in a language which
Michael Strogoff knew to be a mixture of the Mongol and
Siberian:
" Another spy!" she said. "Let him alone and come
to supper. The papluka [a kind of light cake] is waiting
for you."
Michael Strogoff could not help smiling at the epithet
bestowed on him, dreading spies as he did above all
things.
But in the same dialect, although his accent was very
different, the Bohemian replied in words which signify:
"You are right, Sangarre! Besides, we start to-
morrow."
"To-morrow?" repeated the woman in a tone of
surprise.
"Yes, Sangarre," replied the Bohemian; "to-morrow,
and the father himself sends us — where we are going!"
Thereupon the man and woman entered the cottage and
carefully closed the door.
"Good!" said Michael Strogoff to himself. " If these
gypsies do not wish to be understood when they speak
before me they had better use some other language."
From his Siberian origin, and because he had passed
his childhood in the steppes, Michael Strogoff, it has been
said, understood almost all the languages in usage from
Tartary to the Sea of Ice. As to the exact signification
of the words exchanged between the gypsy and his com-
panion, he did not trouble his head. For why should it
interest him?
It was already late when he thought of returning to
his inn to take some repose. He followed, as he did
so, the course of the Volga, whose waters wrere almost
THE TWO ANNOUNCEMENTS. 53
hidden under the countless number of boats floating on its
bosom.
By the direction of the river he knew the spot which he
had just left. This collection of caravans and cottages
occupied the great square in which was held, year by year,
the principal market of Nijni-Novgorod, and this explained
the assemblage in the square of these mountebanks and
gypsies from all quarters of the world.
An hour after, Michael Strogoff was sleeping soundly
on one of those Russian beds which always seem so hard to
strangers, and on the morrow, the 17th of July, he awoke
at break of day.
He had still five hours to pass in Nijni -Novgorod; it
seemed to him an age. How was he to spend the morning
unless in wandering, as he had done the evening before,
through the streets? By the time he had finished his
breakfast, strapped up his bag, had his podorojna inspected
at the police office, he would have nothing to do but start.
But he was not a man to lie in bed after the sun had risen;
so he rose, dressed himself, placed the letter with the
imperial arms on it carefully at the bottom of its usual
pocket within the lining of his coat, over which he fastened
his belt; he then closed his bag and threw it over his
shoulder. This done, he had no wish to return to the
City of Constantinople, and intending to breakfast on
the bank of the Volga near the wharf, he settled his bill
and left the inn. By way of precaution, Michael Strogoff
went first to the office of the steam-packet company, and
there made sure that the Caucasus would start at the ap-
pointed hour. As he did so, the thought for the first time
struck him that since the young Livonian girl was going
to Perm, it was very possible that her intention was also to
embark in the Caucasus, in which case he should accom-
pany her.
The town above with its kremlin, whose circumference
54 MICHAEL STHOGOFF.
measures two versts and which resembles that of Moscow,
was altogether abandoned. Even the governor did not
reside there. But if the town above was like a city of the
dead, the town below, at all events, was alive.
Michael Strogoff, having crossed the Volga on a bridge
of boats, guarded by mounted Cossacks, reached the
square where the evening before he had fallen in with
the gypsy camp. This was somewhat outside the town,
where the fair of Nijni-Novgorod was held, with w7hich
that of Leipzig itself is not to be compared. In a vast
plain beyond the Volga rose the temporary palace of the
governor-general, where by imperial orders that great func-
tionary resided during the whole of the fair, which, thanks
to the people who composed it, required an ever- watchful
surveillance.
This plain was now covered with booths symmetrically
arranged in such a manner as to leave avenues broad
enough to allow the crowd to pass without a crush.
Each group of these booths, of all sizes and shapes,
formed a separate quarter particularly dedicated to some
special branch of commerce. There was the iron quarter,
the f timers' quarter, the woolen quarter, the quarter of the
wood merchants, the weavers' quarter, the dried fish
quarter, etc. Some booths were even built of fancy
materials, some of bricks of tea, ot7\ers of masses of salt
meat — that is to say, of samples of the goods which the
owners thus announced were there to the purchasers — a
singular mode of advertisement.
In the avenues and long alleys there was already a large
assemblage of people — the sun, which had risen at four
o'clock, being well above the horizon — Russians, Siberi-
ans, Germans, Cossacks, Turcomans, Persians, Georgians,
Greeks, Turks, Hindoos, Chinese, an extraordinary mixture
of Europeans and Asiatics, talking, wrangling, haranguing,
and bargaining. Everything which can be bought or sold
THE TWO ANNOUNCEMENTS. 55
seemed to be heaped up in this square. Porters, horses,
camels, asses, boats, caravans — every description of convey-
ance that would serve for the transport of merchandise had
been accumulated on the fair-ground. Furs, precious
stones, silks, Cashmere shawls, Turkey carpets, weapons
from the Caucasus, gauzes from Smyrna and Ispahan, Tift is
armor, caravan teas, European bronzes, Swiss clocks, velvets
and silks from Lyons, English cottons, harness, fruits,
vegetables, minerals from the Ural, malachite, lapis-lazuli,
spices, perfumes, medicinal herbs, wood, tar, rope, horn,
pumpkins, watermelons, etc. — all the products of India,
China, Persia, from the shores of the Caspian and the Black
Sea, from America and Europe, were united at this corner
of the globe.
It is scarcely possible truly to portray the moving mass of
human beings surging here and there, the excitement, the
confusion, the hubbub; demonstrative as were the natives
and the inferior classes, they were completely outdone by
their visitors. There were merchants from Central Asia
who had occupied a year in escorting their merchandise
across its vast plains, and who would not again see their
shops and counting-houses for another year to come. In
short, of such importance is this fair of Nijni-Novgorod
that the sum total of its transactions amounts yearly to not
less than a hundred million roubles.
On one of the open spaces between the quarters of this
temporary city were numbers of mountebanks of every
description; harlequins and acrobats, deafening the visitors
with the noise of their instruments and their vociferous
cries; gypsies from the mountains, telling fortunes to the
credulous fools who are ever to be found in such assem-
blies; Zingaris or Tsiganes — a name which the Kussians
give to the gypsies who are the descendants of the ancient
Copts — singing their wildest melodies and dancing their
most original dances; comedians of foreign theaters acting
5() MICHAEL STR060FF.
Shakespeare adapted to the taste of spectators who crowded
to witness them. In the long avenues the bear showmen
accompanied their four-footed dancers, menageries re-
sounded with the hoarse cries of animals under the influence
of the stinging whip or red-hot irons of the tamer; and
besides all these numberless performers, in the middle of
the central square, surrounded by a circle four deep of
enthusiastic amateurs, was a band of " mariners of the
Volga," sitting on the ground, as on the deck of their vessel,
imitating the action of rowing, guided by the stick of the
master of the orchestra, the veritable helmsman of this
imaginary vessel!
A whimsical and pleasing custom!
Suddenly, according to a time-honored observance in the
fair of Nijni-Novgorod, above the heads of the vast con-
course a flock of birds was allowed to escape from the cages
in which they had been brought to the spot. In return for
a few kopecks charitably offered by some good people, the
bird-fanciers opened the prison doors of their captives, who
flew out in hundreds, uttering their joyous notes.
It should here be mentioned that England and France, at
all events, were this year represented at the great fair of
Nijni-Novgorod by two of the most distinguished products
of modern civilization, Messrs. Harry Blount and Alcide
Jolivet.
Alcide Jolivet, an optimist by nature, seemed to find
everything agreeable, and as by chance both lodging and
food were to his taste, he jotted down in his book some
memoranda particularly favorable to the town of Nijni-
Novgorod.
Harry Blount, on the contrary, having in vain hunted
for a supper, had been obliged to find a resting-place in
the open air. He therefore looked at it all from another
point of view, and was preparing an article of the most
withering character against a town in which the landlords
THE TWO ANNOUNCEMENTS. ft 7
of the inns refused to receive travelers who only begged
leave to be flayed, "morally and physically."
Michael Strogoff, one hand in his pocket, the other
holding his cherry-stemmed pipe, appeared the most in-
different and least impatient of men; yet from a certain
contraction of his eyebrows every now and then, a careful
observer would have perceived that he was burning to be off.
For about two hours he had been walking about the
streets, only to find himself invariably at the fair again.
As he passed among the groups of buyers and sellers he
discovered that those who came from countries on the
confines of Asia manifested great uneasiness. Their trade
was visibly suffering from it.
Another symptom also was to be remarked. In Russia
military uniforms appear on every occasion. Soldiers are
wont to mix freely with the crowd, the police agents being
almost invariably aided by a number of Cossacks, who,
lance on shoulder, keep order in the crowd of three hun-
dred thousand strangers.
But on this occasion the soldiers, Cossacks and the rest,
did not put in an appearance at the great market. Doubt-
less a sudden order to move having been foreseen, they
were restricted to their barracks.
Nevertheless, though no soldiers were to be seen, it was
not so with their officers. Since the evening before, aids-
de-camp, leaving the governor's palace, galloped in every
direction. An unusual movement was going forward which
a serious state of affairs could alone account for. There
were innumerable couriers on the roads both to Wladimir
and to the Ural Mountains. The exchange of telegraphic
dispatches between Moscow and St. Petersburg was in-
cessant.
Michael Strogoff found himself in the central square
when the report spread that the head of police had been
summoned by a courier to the palace of the governor-
5S MICHAEL STRoGOFF.
general. An important dispatch from Moscow, it was
sa.-l, was the cause of it.
"The fair is to be closed, " said one.
" rrhe regiment of Nijni-Xovgorod has received the
route," declared another.
" They say that the Tartars menace Tomsk \"
"Here is the head of police!" was shouted on every
side.
A loud clapping of hands was suddenly raised, which
subsided by degrees and finally was succeeded by absolute
silence. The head of police arrived in the middle of the
central square, and it was seen by all that he held in his
hand a dispatch.
Then in a loud voice he read the following announce-
ments:
"By order of the Governor of Nijni-Xovgorod.
" 1st. All Russian subjects are forbidden to quit the
province upon any pretext whatsoever.
" 2d. All strangers of Asiatic origin are commanded to
leave the province within twenty-four hours."
BROTHER AND SISTER. 59
CHAPTER VI.
BROTHER AND SISTER.
However disastrous these measures might prove to
private interests, they were, under the circumstances, per-
fectly justifiable.
" All Russian subjects are forbidden to leave the province."
If Ivan Ogareff was still in the province, this would at any
rate prevent him, unless with the greatest difficulty, from
rejoining Feofar-Khan and becoming a very formidable
lieutenant to the Tartar chief.
"All foreigners of Asiatic origin are ordered to leave the
province in twenty-four hours." This would send off in a
body all the traders from Central Asia, as well as the bands
of Bohemians, gypsies, etc., having more or less sympathy
with the Tartar or Mongolian populations, and which had
been collected together at the fair. So many heads, so
many spies — undoubtedly the state of affairs required their
expulsion.
It is easy to understand the effect produced by these two
thunder-claps bursting over a town like Nijni-Novgorod,
so densely crowded with visitors, and of which the com-
merce so greatly surpassed that of all other places in
Russia. The natives, therefore, whom business called
beyond the Siberian frontier could not leave the province
for a time at least. The tenor of the first article of the
order was express; it admitted of no exception. All
private interests must yield to the public weal. As to the
second article of the proclamation, the order of expulsion
SO MICHAEL STROGOFF.
which it contained admitted of no evasion either. It only
concerned foreigners of Asiatic origin, but these could do
nothing but pack up their merchandise and go back the
way they came. As to the mountebanks, of which there
were a considerable number, and who had nearly a
thousand versts to go before they could reach the nearest
frontier, for them it was simply misery.
At first there rose against this unusual measure a murmur
of protestation, a cry of despair, but this was quickly
suppressed by the presence of the Cossacks and agents of
police.
Immediately, what might be called the exodus from the
immense plain began. The awnings in front of the stalls
were folded up; the theaters were taken to pieces; the
song and the dance ceased; the shows were silent; the fires
were put out; the acrobats' ropes were lowered; the old
broken-winded horses of the traveling vans came back
from their sheds. Agents and soldiers with whip or stick
stimulated the tardy ones and made nothing of pulling
down the tents even before the poor Bohemians had left
them.
Under these energetic measures the square of Xijni-
Xovgorod would, it was evident, be entirely evacuated be-
fore the evening, and to the tumult of the great fair would
succeed the silence of the desert.
It must again be repeated — for it was a necessary
aggravation of these severe measures — that to all those
nomads chiefly concerned in the order of expulsion even
the steppes of Siberia were forbidden, and they would be
obliged to hasten to the south of the Caspian Sea, either to
Persia, Turkey, or the plains of Turkestan. The post of
the Ural and the mountains which form, as it were, a pro-
longation of the river along the Russian frontier, they were
not allowed to pass. They were therefore under the
necessity of traveling a thousand versts before they could
tread a free soil.
BROTHER AND SISTER. 61
Just as the reading of the proclamation by the head of
the police came to an end, an idea darted instinctively into
the mind of Michael Strogoff.
" What a singular coincidence," thought he, "between
this proclamation expelling all foreigners of Asiatic origin
and the words exchanged last evening between those two
gypsies of the Zingari race. ' The father himself sends us
where we wish to go/ that old man said. But 'the father '
is the emperor! He is never called anything else among
the people. How could those gypsies have foreseen the
measure taken against them? How could they have
known it beforehand, and where do they wish to go?
Those are suspicious people, and it seems to me that to
them the government proclamation must be more useful
than injurious."
But these reflections, though certainly correct, were
completely dispelled by another which drove every other
thought out of Michael's mind. He forgot the Zingaris,
their suspicious words, the strange coincidence which
resulted from the proclamation. The remembrance of
the young Livonian girl suddenly rushed into his mind.
"Poor child!" he thought to himself. "She cannot
now cross the frontier."
In truth, the young girl was from Riga; she was
Livonian, consequently Russian, and now could not leave
Russian territory! The permit which had been given her
before the new measures had been promulgated was
evidently no longer available. All the routes to Siberia
had just been pitilessly closed to her, and whatever was
the motive which was taking her to Irkutsk, she was now
forbidden to go there.
This thought greatly occupied Michael Strogoff. He
sard to himself, vaguely at first, that without neglecting
anything of what was due to his important mission, it
would perhaps be possible for him to be of some use to
62 MICHAEL STROGOFF.
this brave girl; and this idea pleased him. Knowing how
serious were the dangers which he, an energetic and
vigorous man, would have personally to encounter through
a country of which however the roads were familiar, he
could not conceal from himself how infinitely greater they
would prove to a young unprotected girl. As she was
going to Irkutsk, she would be obliged to follow the same
road as himself; she would have to pass through the bands
of invaders, as he was about to attempt doing himself.
If, moreover, and according to all probability, she had at
her disposal only the resources necessary for a journey
taken under ordinary circumstances, how could she manage
to accomplish it under conditions which late events would
render not only perilous, but expensive?
" Well," said he, "if she takes the route to Perm it is
nearly impossible but that I shall fall in with her. Then
I will watch over her without her suspecting it; and as she
appears to me as anxious as myself to reach Irkutsk, she
will cause me no delay."
But one thought leads to another. Michael Strogoff
had till now reasoned on the supposition of doing a kind
action, of rendering a service; but now another idea
flashed into his brain, and the question presented itself
under quite a new aspect.
"The fact is," said he to himself, "that I have much
more need of her than she can have of me. Her presence
will be useful in drawing off suspicion from me. A man
traveling alone across the steppe may be easily guessed to
be a courier of the czar. If, on the contrary, this young
girl accompanies me, I shall appear, in the eyes of all, the
Nicholas Korpanoff of my podorojna. Therefore she must
accompany me. Therefore I must find her again at any
cost. It is not probable that since yesterday evening she
has been able to get a carriage and leave Nijni-Novgoiod.
I must look for her. And may God guide me!"
BROTHER AND SISTER. 63
Michael left the great square of Nijni-lMovgorod, where
the tumult produced by the carrying out of the prescribed
measures had now reached its height. Recriminations
from the banished strangers, shouts from the agents and
Cossacks who were using them so brutally, together made
an indescribable uproar. The girl for whom he searched
could not be there. It was now nine o'clock in the morn-
ing. The steamboat did not start till twelve. Michael
Strogoff had therefore nearly two hours to employ in search-
ing for her whom he wished to make his traveling com-
panion.
He crossed the Volga again and hunted through the
quarters on the oiher side, where the crowd was much less
considerable. He visited every road, both in the high and
low towns. He entered the churches, the natural refuge
for all who weep, for all who suffer. Nowhere did he meet
with the young Livonian.
" And yet," he repeated, "she could not have left Nijni-
Novgorod yet. We'll have another look."
Michael wandered about thus for two hours. He went
on without stopping, feeling no fatigue, but obeying the
potent instinct which allowed him no room for thought.
All was in vain.
It then occurred to him that perhaps the girl had not
heard of the order — though this was improbable enough,
for such a thunder-clap could not have burst without being
heard by all. Evidently interested in knowing the smallest
news from Siberia, how could she be ignorant of the meas-
ures taken by the governor, measures which concerned
her so directly?
But if she was ignorant of it she would come in an hour
to the quay, and there some merciless agent would brutally
refuse her a passage! At any cost, he must see her before-
hand and do what he could to enable her to avoid such a
repulse.
64 MICHAEL 8TR0OOFF.
But all his endeavors were in vain, and he at length
almost despaired of finding her again.
It was now eleven o'clock, and Michael, though under
any other circumstances it would have been useless,
thought of presenting his podorojna at the office of the
head of police. The proclamation evidently did not con-
cern him, since the emergency had been foreseen for him,
but he wished to make sure that nothing would hinder his
departure from the town.
Michael then returned to the other side of the Volga, to
the quarter in which was the office of the head of police.
An immense crowd was collected there; for though all
foreigners were ordered to quit the province, they had not-
withstanding to go through certain forms before they
could depart.
Without this precaution, some Russians more or less im-
plicated in the Tartar movement would have been able, in
a disguise, to pass the frontier — just those whom the order
wished to prevent going. The strangers were sent awray,
but still had to gain permission to go.
Mountebanks, gypsies, Tsiganes and Zingaris and mingled
with merchants from Persia, Turkey, India, Turkestan,
China, filled the court and offices of the police station.
Every one was in a hurry, for the means of transport
would be much sought after among this crowd of banished
people, and those who did not set about it soon ran a great
risk of not being able to leave the town in the prescribed
time, Avhich would expose them to some brutal treatment
from the governor's agents.
Owing to the strength of his elbows Michael Strogoff
was able to cross the court. But to get into the office and
up to the clerk's little window was a much more difficult
business. However, a word into an inspector's ear and a
few judiciously given roubles were powerful enough to gain
him a passage.
BROTHER AND SISTER. 65
The man, after taking him into the waiting-room, went
to call an upper clerk.
Michael Strogoff would not be long in making every-
thing right with the police and being free in his move-
ments.
While waiting he looked about him, and what did he
see? There, fallen, rather than seated, on a bench, was
a girl, prey to a silent despair, although her face could
scarcely be seen, the profile alone being visible against the
wall.
Michael Strogoff could not be mistaken. He instantly
recognized the young Livonian.
Not knowing the governor's orders, she had come to the
police office to get her pass signed. They had refused to
sign it. No doubt she was authorized to go to Irkutsk,
but the order was peremptory — it annulled all previous
authorizations and the routes to Siberia were closed to her.
Michael, delighted at having found her again, approached
the girl.
She looked up for a moment and her face brightened on
recognizing her traveling companion. She instinctively
rose, and like a drowning man who clutches at a spar, she
was about to ask his help. At that moment the agent
touched Michael on the shoulder.
" The head of police will see you," he said.
" Good," returned Michael. And without saying a word
to her for whom he had been searching all day, without
reassuring her by even a gesture, which might compromise
either her or himself, he followed the man through the
crowd.
The young Livonian, seeing the only being to whom she
could look for help disappear, fell back again on her bench.
Three minutes had not passed before Michael Strogoff
reappeared, accompanied by the agent. In his hand he
held his podorojna, which threw open the roads to Siberia
fiO MICHAEL STHOGOFF.
for him. He again approached the young Livonian, and
holding out his hand:
" Sister," said he.
She understood. She rose as if some sudden inspiration
prevented her from hesitating a moment.
" Sister," repeated Michael Strogoff, " we are author-
ized to continue our journey to Irkutsk. Will you come?"
" I will follow you, brother," replied the girl, putting
her hand into that of Michael Strogoff. And together
they left the police station.
GOING DOWN TEE VOLGA. 67
CHAPTER VII.
GOING DOWN THE VOLGA.
A little before mid-day the steamboat's bell drew to the
wharf on the Volga an unusually large concourse of people,
for not only were those about to embark who had intended
to go, but the many who were compelled to go contrary to
their wishes. The boilers of the Caucasus were under full
pressure; a slight smoke issued from its chimney, while
the end of the escape-pipe and the lids of the valves were
crowned with white vapor. It is needless to say that the
police kept a close watch over the departure of the Cau-
casus, and showed themselves pitiless to those travelers
who did not satisfactorily answer their questions.
Numerous Cossacks came and went on the quay, ready
to assist the agents, but they had not to interfere, as no
one ventured to offer the slightest resistance to their
orders. Exactly at the hour the last clang of the bell
sounded, the warps were cast off, the powerful wheels of
the steamboat began to beat the water, and the Caucasus
passed rapidly between the two towns of which Nijni-
Novgorod is composed.
Michael Strogoff and the young Livonian had taken
passage on board the Caucasus. Their embarkation was
made without any difficulty. As is known, the podorojna
drawn up in the name of Nicholas Korpanoff authorized
this merchant to be accompanied on his journey to Siberia.
They appeared, therefore, to be a brother and sister travel-
ing under the protection of the imperial police. Both,
08 MICHAEL STROGOFF.
seated together at the stern, gazed at the receding town,
so disturbed by the governor's order. Michael had as yet
said nothing to the girl — he had not even questioned her.
He 'waited until she should speak to him, when that was
necessary. She had been anxious to leave that town in
which, but for the providential intervention of this un-
expected protector, she would have remained imprisoned.
She said nothing, but her looks spoke her thanks.
The Volga, the Eha of the ancients, is considered to be
the largest river in all Europe, and is not less than four
thousand versts in length. Its waters, rather unwholesome
in its upper part, are improved at Nijui-lSTovgorod by those
of the Oka, a rapid affluent issuing from the central
provinces of Russia.
The system of Russian canals and rivers has been justly
compared to a gigantic tree whose branches spread over
every part of the empire. The Volga forms the trunk of
this tree, and it has for roots seventy mouths opening into
the Caspian Sea. It is navigable as far as Rjef, a town in
the government of Tver, that is, along the greater part of
its course.
The steamboats plying between Perm and Nijni-
Novgorod rapidly perform the three hundred and fifty
versts which separate this town from the town of Kasan.
It is true that these boats have only to descend the Volga,
which adds nearly two miles of current per hour to their
own speed; but on arriving at the confluence of the Kama,
a little below Kasan, they are obliged to quit the Volga for
the smaller river, up which they ascend to Perm. Powerful
as were her machines, the Caucasus could not thus, after
entering the Kama, make against the current more than
sixteen versts an hour. Including an hour's stoppage at
Kasan, the voyage from Nijni-Novgorod to Perm would
take from sixty to sixty-two hours.
The steamer was very well arranged, and the passengers,
GOING DOWN TEE VOLGA. CO
according to their condition or resources, occupied three
distinct classes on board. Michael Strogoff had taken care
to engage two first-class cabins, so that his young com-
panion might retire into hers and be quiet whenever she
liked.
The Caucasus was loaded with passengers of every
description. A number of Asiatic traders had thought it
best to leave Nijni-Novgorod immediately. In that part of
the steamer reserved for the first class might be seen
Armenians in long robes and a sort of miter on their heads;
Jews, known by their conical caps; rich Chinese in their
traditional costume, a very wide blue, violet, or black robe,
open at front and at the back and covered by a second robe
with wide sleeves, the cut of which recalls that of the
popes; Turks, wearing the national turban; Hindoos, with
square caps and a simple string for a girdle, some of whom,
more especially designated under the name of Shikarporis,
hold in their hands all the traffic of Central Asia; and,
lastly, Tartars, wearing boots ornamented with many-
colored braid and the breast a mass of embroidery. All
these merchants had been obliged to pile up their nu-
merous bales and chests in the hold and on the deck; and
the transport of their baggage would cost them dear, for
according to the regulations each passenger had only a
right to twenty pounds' weight.
In the bows of the Caucasus were more numerous groups
of passengers, not only foreigners, but also Russians, who
were not forbidden by the order to go back to the towns in
the province.
There were mujiks with caps on their heads and
wearing checked shirts under their wide pelisses; peasants
of the Volga with blue trousers stuffed into their boots,
rose-colored cotton shirts drawn in by a cord, felt caps;
a few women habited in flowery-patterned cotton dresses,
gay-colored aprons, and bright handkerchiefs on their
?0 MICHAEL STROGOFF.
heads. These were principally third-class passengers,
who were, happily, not troubled by the prospect of a
long return voyage. In short, this part of the deck was
crowded. The cabin passengers did not venture among
these mixed groups, whose place was marked beyond the
paddle-boxes.
In the mean time the Caucasus was rapidly plying
her paddles between the banks of the Volga. She passed
numerous boats being towed up the stream, carrying all
sorts of merchandise to Nijni-Novgorod. Then passed
rafts of wood as long as those interminable masses of
weed found in a part of the Atlantic known as the
Sargasso Sea, and barges loaded up to the gunwale and
nearly sinking under water. A bootless voyage they were
making, since the fair had been abruptly broken up at its
outset.
The waves caused by the steamer splashed on the
banks, covered with flocks of wild duck, who flew away
uttering deafening cries. A little further, on the dry fields,
bordered with alders, willows, and aspens, were scattered a
few dark-red cows, flocks of brown-fleeced sheep, and herds
of black and white pigs of all sizes. Fields sown with thin
buckwheat and rye stretched away to a background of half-
cultivated hills, but offering no remarkable prospect. The
pencil of an artist in quest of some picturesque scene would
have found nothing to reproduce in this monotonous land-
scape.
The Caucasus had been steaming on for about two hours,
when the young Livonian, addressing herself to Michael
Strogoff, said:
"Are you going to Irkutsk, brother?"
' c Yes, sister," answered the young man. ' ' We are both
going the same way. Consequently wherever I go you
shall go."
" To-morrow, brother, you shall know why I left the
shores of the Baltic to go beyond the Ural Mountains."
GOING DOWN TUB VOLGA. 71
" I ask you nothing, sister."
" Yon shall know all," replied the girl, with a faint
smile. "A sister should hide nothing from her brother.
But I cannot to-day. Fatigue and sorrow have broken me
down."
" Will you go and rest in your cabin?" asked Michael.
" Yes — yes; and to-morrow "
" Come then "
He hesitated to finish his sentence, as if he had wished
to end it by the name of his companion, of which he was
still ignorant.
" Nadia," said she, holding out her hand.
" Come, Nadia," answered Michael, "and make what
use you like of your brother Nicholas Korpanoff."
And he led the girl to the cabin engaged for her off the
saloon.
Michael Strogoff returned on deck, and eager for any
news which might bear on his journey, he mingled in the
groups of passengers, though without taking any part in
the conversation. Should he by any chance be questioned
and obliged to reply, he would announce himself as the
merchant Nicholas Korpanoff, going back to the frontier
in the Caucasus, for he did not wish it to be suspected
that a special permission authorized him to travel to
Siberia.
The foreigners in the steamer could evidently speak of
nothing but the occurrences of the day, of the order and its
consequences. These poor people, scarcely recovered from
the fatigue of a journey across Central Asia, found them-
selves obliged to return, and if they did not give loud vent
to their anger and despair, it was because they dared not.
Fear, mingled with respect, restrained them. It was
possible that inspectors of police charged with watching
the passengers had secretly embarked on board the
Caucasus, and it was just as well to keep silence; ex-
72 MICHAEL STROOOFF
pulsion, after all, was a good deal preferable to imprison-
ment in a fortress. Therefore the men were either silent
or remarks were* exchanged with so much caution that
it was scarcely possible to get any useful information from
them.
Michael Strogoff thus could learn nothing here; but if
mouths were often shut at his approach — for they did not
know him — his ears were soon struck by the sound of one
voice, which cared little whether it was heard or not.
The man with the hearty voice spoke Kussian, but with
a foreign accent, and the other speaker answered him more
reservedly in the same language, evidently, however, not
his native tongue.
" What," said the first, "are you on board this boat,
too, my dear fellow; you whom I met at the imperial
fete in Moscow and just caught a glimpse of at Nijni-
Novgorod?"
" Yes, it's me," answered the second dryly.
" Well, really, I didn't expect to be so closely followed
by you."
"Indeed! I am not following you, sir; I am preceding
yon."
" Precede! precede! Let us march abreast, keeping step
like two soldiers on parade, and for the time at least let us
agree, if you will, that one shall not pass the other."
" On the contrary, I shall pass you."
" We shall see that when we are on the theater of war,
but till then, why, let us be traveling companions.
Later we shall have both time and occasion to be
rivals."
"Enemies."
44 Enemies, if you like. There is a precision in your
words, my dear fellow, which is particularly agreeable to
me. One may always know what one has to look for with
you."
(WING DOWN THE VOLGA. 73
"What is the harm?"
" No harm at all. So in my turn I will ask your per-
mission to state our respective situations."
"State away."
"You are going to Perm — like me?"
"Like you."
" And probably you will go from Perm to Ekaterenburg,
since that is the best and safest route by which to cross the
Ural Mountains?"
" Probably."
" Once past the frontier we shall be in Siberia, that is
to say, in the midst of the invasion."
"We shall be there."
" Well! then, and only then, will be the time to say
each for himself and God for "
"Forme."
" For you, all by yourself! Very well! But since we
have a week of neutral days before us, and since it is very
certain that news will not shower down upon us on the
way, let us be friends until we become rivals again."
"Enemies."
" Yes; that's right, enemies. But till then let us act
together and not try and ruin each other. All the same, I
promise you to keep to myself all that I can see "
" And I all that I can hear."
"Is that agreed?"
" It is agreed."
"Your hand?"
"Here it is."
And the hand of the first speaker, that is to say, five
wide-open fingers, vigorously shook the two fingers coolly
extended by the other.
" By the by," said the first, " I was able this morning to
telegraph the very words of the order to my cousin at
^seventeen minutes past ten."
74 MICHAEL 8TH0G0FF.
"And I sent it to the Daily Telegraph at thirteen min-
utes past ten."
"Bravo, Mr. Blount!"
"Very good, M. Jolivet."
"I will try and match that!"
"It will be difficult."
"I can try, however."
So saying, the French correspondent familiarly saluted
the Englishman, who bowed stiffly. The governor's proc-
lamation did not concern these two news-hunters, as they
were neither Russians nor foreigners of Asiatic origin.
They had set out, however, and being urged by the same
instinct, had left Xijni-Xovgorod together. Itwas natural
that they should take the same means of transport and
that they should follow the same route to the Siberian
steppes. Traveling companions, whether enemies or
friends, they had a week to pass together before " the hunt
would be open." And then success to the most expert!
Alcide Jolivet had made the first advances, and though
Harry Blount had accepted them, he had done so cold] v.
That very day at dinner the Frenchman, open as ever
and even too loquacious, and the Englishman, still silent
and grave, were seen hobnobbing at the same table, drink-
ing genuine Cliquot, at six roubles the bottle, made from
the fresh sap of the birch trees of the country.
On hearing Alcide Jolivet and Harry Blount chatting
away together, Michael Strogotf said to himself :
" Those are inquisitive and indiscreet fellows whom I
shall probably meet again on the way. It will be prudent
for me to keep them at a distance.''
The young Livonian did not come to dinner. She was
asleep in her cabin, and Michael did not like to awaken
her. It was evening before she reappeared on the deck of
the Caucasus.
The long twilight imparted a coolness to the atmosphere
GOING DOWN THE VOLGA. 75
eagerly enjoyed by the passengers after the stifling heat
of the day. As the evening advanced, the greater number
never even thought of going back to the saloon and cabins.
Stretched on the benches, they inhaled with delight the
slight breeze caused by the speed of the steamer. At this
time of year and under this latitude the sky scarcely
darkened between sunset and dawn, and left the steersman
light enough to guide his steamer among the numerous
vessels going up or down the Volga.
Between eleven and two, the moon being new, it was al-
most dark. Nearly all the passengers were then asleep on
the deck, and the silence was disturbed only by the noise
of the paddles striking the water at regular intervals.
Anxiety kept Michael Strogoff awake. He walked up and
down, but always in the stern of the steamer. Once, how-
ever, he happened to pass the engine-room. He then found
himself in the part reserved for second and third class
passengers.
There every one was lying asleep, not only on the
benches, but also on the bales, packages, and even the deck
itself. The men on watch above were standing about
on the forecastle. Two lights, one green, the other red,
hung over the starboard and port sides and sent a few rays
along the steamboat's bulwarks.
Some care was necessary not to tread on the sleepers,
who were lying about everywhere. They were chiefly
mujiks, accustomed to hard couches and quite satisfied
with the planks of the deck. But no doubt they would,
all the same, have soundly abused the clumsy fellow who
happened to rouse them with an accidental kick.
Michael Strogoff took care, therefore, not to disturb any
one. By going thus to the end of the boat, he had no
other idea but that of striving against sleep by a rather
longer walk.
lie reached the other part of the deck and was already
76 MICHAEL STROGOFF.
climbing the forecastle ladder, when he heard some one
speaking near him. He stopped. The voices appeared to
come from a group of passengers enveloped in cloaks and
wraps, so that it was impossible to recognize them in the
dark. But it sometimes happened that when the steamer's
chimney sent forth a plume of ruddy flames among the
volumes of smoke, the sparks seemed to fall among the
group as though thousands of spangles had been suddenly
illuminated. Michael was about to step up the ladder,
when a few words reached his ear, distinctly uttered in
that strange tongue which he had heard during the night
at the fair.
Instinctively he stopped to listen. Protected by the
shadow of the forecastle, he could not be perceived himself.
As to seeing the passengers who were talking, that was
impossible. He was obliged to confine himself to listening.
The first words exchanged were of no importance — to
him at least — but they allowed him to recognize the voices
of the man and woman whom he had heard at Xijni-
Novgorod. This, of course, made him redouble his at-
tention. It was, indeed, not at all impossible that the
Tsiganes, a scrap of whose conversation he had overheard,
now banished with all their fellows, should be on board the
Caucasus.
And it was well for him that he listened, for he dis-
tinctly heard this question and answer made in the Tartar
idiom:
"It is said that a courier has set out from Moscow for
Irkutsk. "
"It is so said, Sangarre; but either this courier will
arrive too late or he will not arrive at all."
Michael Strogoff started involuntarily at this reply,
which concerned him so directly. He tried to see if the
man and woman who had just spoken were really those
whom he suspected, but the shadow was too deep and he
could not succeed.
GOING DOWN THE VOLGA. 77
In a few moments Michael Strogoff had regained the
stern of the vessel without having been perceived, and
taking a seat by himself he buried his face in his hands.
It might have been supposed that he was asleep.
He was not asleep, however, and did not even think of
sleeping. He was reflecting on this, not without a lively
apprehension:
"Who is it knows of my departure, and who can have
any interest in knowing it?"
7& MICHAEL STEOGOFF
CHAPTER VIII.
GOING UP THE KAMA.
The next day, the 18th of July, at twenty minutes tc
seven in the morning, the Caucasus reached the Kasan
quay, seven versts from the town.
Kasan is situated at the confluence of the Volga and
Kasanka. It is an important chief town of the govern-
ment and a Greek archbishopric, as well as the seat of a
university. The varied population consists of Tchermises,
Mordvrans, Tchouvacks, Volsalks, Vizoulitchaks, and Tar-
tars, the last-named race more especially preserving the
Asiatic character.
Although the town was at some distance from the land-
ing-place, a large crowd was collected on the quay. They
had come for news. The governor of the province had
published an order identical with that of his colleague at
Nijni-Novgorod. There might be seen Tartars dressed in
short-sleeved cafetans and wearing pointed caps of which
the broad brims recalled those of the traditional Pierrot.
Others, wrapped in long great-coats, their heads covered
by little caps, looked like Polish Jews. Women, their
bodices glittering with tinsel and heads surmounted by a
diadem in form of a crescent, conversed in various groups.
Police officers and a few Cossacks, lance in hand, kept
order among the crowd and cleared the way both for the
passengers who were disembarking and also for those
who were embarking on board the Caucasus, minutely ex-
amining both classes of travelers. The one were the Asiat-
GOING UP THE KAMA. 79
ics who were being expelled; the other a few families of
mujiks who were stopping at Kasan.
Michael Strogoff unconcernedly watched the bustle
which invariably occurs at all quays on the arrival of a
steam vessel. The Caucasus would stay at Kasan for an
hour — time enough to renew her fuel.
Michael did not even think of landing. He was unwill-
ing to leave the young Livonian girl alone on board, as she
had not yet reappeared on deck.
The two journalists had risen at dawn, as all good hunts-
men should do. They went on shore and mingled with
the crowd, each keeping to his own peculiar mode of pro-
ceeding; Harry Blount sketching different types or noting
some observation, Alcide Jolivet contenting himself with
asking questions, confiding in his memory, which never
failed him.
There was a report along all the eastern frontier of Rus-
sia that the insurrection and invasion had reached consid-
erable proportions. Communication between Siberia and
the empire was already extremely difficult. . All this
Michael Strogoff heard, without leaving the deck of the
Caucasus, from the new arrivals.
This information could. not but cause him great uneasi-
ness and increase his wish of being beyond the Ural Moun-
tains, so as to judge for himself of the truth of these
rumors and enable him to guard against any possible con-
tingency. He was thinking of seeking more direct intelli-
gence from some native of Kasan, when his attention was
suddenly diverted.
Among the passengers who were leaving the Caucasus,
Michael recognized the troop of Tsiganes who the day
before had appeared in the Nijni-Novgorod fair. There
on the deck of the steamboat were the old Bohemian and
the woman who had played the spy on him. With them,
and no doubt under their direction, landed about twenty
80 MICHAEL STBOGOFF.
dancers and singers, from fifteen to twenty years of age,
wrapped in old cloaks, which covered their spangled
dresses. These dresses, jnst then glancing in the first rays
of the sun, reminded Michael of the cnrions appearance
which he had observed during the night. It must have
been the glitter of those spangles in the bright flames issu-
ing suddenly from the steamboat's funnel which had at-
tracted his attention.
" Evidently," said Michael to himself, " this troop of
Tsiganes, after remaining below all day, crouched under
the forecastle during the night. Were these gypsies trying
to show themselves as little as possible? Such is not ac-
cording to the usual custom of their race/'
Michael Strogoff no longer doubted that the expressions
he had heard which so clearly referred to him had pro-
ceeded from this tawny group, and had been exchanged
between the old gypsy and the woman to whom he gave
the Mongolian name of Sangarre.
Michael involuntarily moved toward the gangway as the
Bohemian troop was leaving the steamboat, not to return
to it again.
The old Bohemian was there, in a humble attitude, little
conformable with the effrontery natural to his race. One
would have said that he was endeavoring rather to avoid at-
tention than to attract it. His battered hat, browned by
the suns of every clime, was pulled forward over his
wrinkled face. His arched back was bent under an old
cloak wrapped closely round him, notwithstanding the
heat. It would have been difficult in this miserable dress
to judge of either his size or face. Near him was the
Tsigane, Sangarre, a woman about thirty years old. She
was tall and well made, with olive complexion, magnificent
eyes, and golden hair, and carried herself to perfection.
Many of the young dancers were remarkably pretty, all
possessing the clear-cut features of their race. These
nOTNG UP TUB KAMA. 81
Tsiganes arc generally very attractive, and more than one
of the great Russian nobles, who try to vie with the English
in eccentricity, has not hesitated to choose his wife from
among these gypsy girls. One of them was humming a
song of a strange rhythm; the first lines might be thus
rendered:
" Glitters brightly the gold
In my raven locks streaming
Rich coral around
My graceful neck gleaming ;
Like a bird of the air,
Through the wide world I roam."
The laughing girl no doubt continued her song, but
Michael Strogoff ceased to listen to it.
Indeed, it struck him just then that the Tsigane, San-
garre, was regarding him with a peculiar gaze, as if she
wished to fix his features indelibly in her memory.
It was but a few moments, when Sangarre herself
followed the old man and his troop, who had already left
the vessel.
" That's a bold gypsy," said Michael to himself. " Could
she have recognized me as the man whom she saw at
Kijni-Novgorod? These confounded Tsiganes have the
eyes of a cat! They can see in the dark; and that woman
there might well know "
Michael Strogoff was on the point of following Sangarre
and the gypsy band, but he stopped.
" No," thought he, " no unguarded proceedings. If I
were to stop that old fortune-teller and his companions my
incognito would run a risk of being discovered. Besides,
now they have landed, before they can pass the frontier I
shall be already beyond the Ural. I know that they may
take the route from Kasan to Ishim, but that affords no
resources to travelers, and besides, a tarantass drawn by
good Siberian horses will always go faster than a gypsy
cart! Come, friend Korpanoff, make yourself easy."
82 MICHAEL STROGOFF.
By this time the old man and Sangarre had disappeared
in the crowd.
Kasan is justly called the " Gate of Asia " and con-
sidered as the center of Siberian and Bokharian commerce,
• for two roads begin here and lead across the Ural Moun-
tains. But Michael Strogoff had very judiciously chosen
the one by Perm, Ekaterenburg, and Tioumen. It is the
great stage-road, well supplied with relays kept at the ex-
pense of the government, and is prolonged from Ishim to
Irkutsk.
It is true that a second route — the one of which Michael
had just spoken — avoiding the slight detour by Perm, also
connects Kasan with Ishim, passing by Telaburg, Mense-
linsk, Birsk, Glatsoust, then leaving Europe, Tcheliabinsk,
Chadrinsk, Kurgan.
It is perhaps shorter than the other, but this advantage
is much diminished by the absence of post-houses, the bad
roads, and the paucity of villages. Michael Strogoff was
right in being satisfied with the choice he had made, and
if, as appeared probable, the gypsies should follow the
second route from Kasan to Ishim, he had every chance of
arriving before them.
An hour afterward the bell rang on board the Caucasus,
calling the new passengers and recalling the former ones.
It was now seven o'clock in the morning. The requisite
fuel had been received on board. The whole vessel began
to vibrate from the effects of the steam. She was ready to
start.
Passengers going from Kasan to Perm were crowding on
the deck.
Just then Michael noticed that of the two reporters
Harry Blount alone had rejoined the steamer.
Was Alcide Jolivet about to miss his passage?
But just as the ropes were being cast off Alcide Jolivet
appeared, tearing along. The steamer was already sheer-
GOING UP THE KAMA. 83
ing off, the gangway bridge bad been drawn on to the
quay, but Alcide Jolivet would not stick at such a little
thing as that, so with a bound like a harlequin he alighted
on the deck of the Caucasus almost into his rival's arms.
"I thought the Caucasus was going without you," said
Lhe latter.
" Bah!" answered Jolivet, "1 should soon have caught
you up again by chartering a boat at my cousin's expense
or by traveling post at twenty kopecks a verst and on horse-
back. What could I do? It was so long a way from the
quay to the telegraph office."
" Have you been to the telegraph office?" asked Harry
Blount, biting his lips.
" That's exactly where I have been!" answered Jolivet,
with his most amiable smile.
" And is it still working to Kalyvan?"
" That I don't know, but I can assure you, for instance,
that it is working from Kasan to Paris."
" You sent a dispatch to your cousin?"
" With enthusiasm."
" You had learned, then "
(i Look here, little father, as the Eussians say," replied
Alcide Jolivet, " I'm a good fellow and I don't wish to
keep anything from you. The Tartars, with Feofar-Khan
at their head, have passed Semipolatinsk and are descend-
ing the Irtish. Do what you like with that!"
What! such important news and Harry Blount had not
known it; and his rival, who had probably learned it from
some inhabitant of Kasan, had already transmitted it to
Paris. The English paper was distanced! Harry Blount,
crossing his hands behind his back, walked off and seated
himself in the stern of the steamboat without uttering a
word.
About ten o'clock in the morning the young Livonian,
leaving her cabin, appeared on deck. Michael Strogoff
Went forward and took her hand.
84 MICHAEL STROGOFF.
" Look, sister!" said he, leading her to the bows of the
Caucasus.
The view was indeed well worth examining with some
attention.
The Caucasus had just then reached the confluence of
the Volga and the Kama. There she would leave the
former river, after having descended it for more than four
hundred versts, to ascend the latter for four hundred and
sixty versts.
The Kama was here very wide and its wooded banks
lovely. A few white sails enlivened the sparkling water.
The horizon was closed by a line of hills covered with
aspens, alders, and sometimes large oaks.
But these beauties of nature could not distract the
thoughts of the young Livonian even for an instant. She
had left her hand in that of her companion, and soon turn-
ing to him:
" At what distance are we from Moscow?" she asked.
" Nine hundred versts," answered Michael.
" Nine hundred out of seven thousand!" murmured the
girl.
The bell now announced the breakfast hour. Nadia
followed Michael Strogoff to the restaurant. She ate little
and as a poor girl whose means are small would do.
Michael Strogoff thought it best to content himself with
the fare which satisfied his companion, and in less than
twenty minutes Michael Strogoff and Nadia returned on
deck. There they seated themselves in the stern, and
without other preamble Nadia, lowering her voice so as to
be heard by him alone, began:
" Brother, I am the daughter of an exile. My name is
Nadia Fedor. My mother died at Riga scarcely a month
ago, and I am going to Irkutsk to rejoin my father and
share his exile."
" I too am going to Irkutsk," answered Michael, " and
GOING UP THE KAMA. 85
I shall thank Heaven if it enables me to give Nadia Fedor
safe and sound into her father's hands."
" Thank you, brother/' replied Nadia.
Michael Strogoff then added that he had obtained a spe-
cial podorojna for Siberia, and that the Russian authorities
could in no way hinder his progress.
Nadia asked nothing more. She saw in this fortunate
meeting with Michael a means only of accelerating her
journey to her father.
" I had/' said she, " a permit which authorized me to
go to Irkutsk, but the order of the Governor of Nijni-Nov-
gorod annulled that, and but for you, brother, I should
have been unable to leave the town, in which, without
doubt, I should have perished."
"And dared you, alone, Nadia," said Michael, "attempt
to cross the steppes of Siberia?"
" The Tartar invasion was not known when I left Riga,"
replied the young girl. " It was only at Moscow that I
learned that news."
" And notwithstanding that, you continued your
journey?"
"It was my duty."
This word showed the character of the courageous girl.
She then spoke of her father, Wassili Fedor. He was
a much-esteemed physician at Riga, but his connection
with some secret society having been asserted, he received
orders to start for Irkutsk, and the police who brought the
order conducted him without delay beyond the frontier.
Wassili Fedor had but time to embrace his sick wife and
his daughter, so soon to be left alone, when, shedding bitter
tears, he was led away.
A year and a half after her husband's departure Madame
Fedor died in the arms of her daughter, who was thus left
alone and almost penniless. Nadia Fedor then asked and
easily obtained from the Russian Government an author-
86 MICHAEL STROGOFF.
ization to join her father at Irkutsk. She wrote and told
him she was starting. She had barely enough money for this
long journey, and yet she did not hesitate to undertake
it. She would do what she could. God would do the
rest.
All this time the Caucasus went steaming up the river.
DA Y AND NIGHT IN A TARANTASS. 87
CHAPTER IX.
DAY AND NIGHT IN A TARANTASS.
The next day, the 19th of July, the Caucasus reached
Perm, the last place at which she touched on the Kama.
The goverment of which Perm is the capital is one of the
largest in the Russian Empire, and extending over the
Ural Mountains encroaches on Siberian territory. Marble
quarries and mines of salt, platina, gold, and coal are
worked here on a large scale. Although Perm, by its
situation, has become an important town, it is by no means
attractive, being extremely muddy and dirty and possessing
no resources. This want of comfort is of no consequence
to those going from Russia to Siberia, for they come from
the more civilized districts and are supplied with all
necessaries; but to those arriving from the countries of
Central Asia after a long and fatiguing journey, it would
no doubt be more satisfactory if the first European town of
the empire situated on the Asiatic frontier were better
supplied with stores.
At Perm the travelers resell their vehicles, more or less
damaged by the long journey across the plains of Siberia.
There, too, those passing from Europe to Asia purchase
carriages during the summer and sleighs in the winter
season before starting for a several months' journey through
the steppes.
Michael Strogoff had already sketched out his programme,
so now he had nothing to do but execute it.
A vehicle carrying the mail usually runs across the
SS MICHAEL STROOOFF.
Ural Mountains, but at the present time this, of course,
was discontinued. Even if it had. not been so, Michael
Strogoff would not have taken it, as he wished to travel
as fast as possible, without depending on any one. He
wisely preferred to buy a carriage and journey by stages,
stimulating the zeal of the postilions, or iemschiks, as
they are called, by well-applied " na vodkou," or tips.
Unfortunately, in consequence of the measures taken
against foreigners of Asiatic origin, a large number of
travelers had already left Perm, and therefore conveyances
were extremely rare. Michael was obliged to content
himself with what had been rejected by others. As to
horses, as long as the czar's courier was not in Siberia
he could exhibit his podorojna without danger, and the
postmasters would give him the preference. Bat once out
of European Russia, he had to depend alone on the power
of his roubles.
But to what sort of a vehicle should he harness his
horses? To a telga or to a tarantass?
The telga is nothing but an open four-wheeled cart,
made entirely of wood. Wheels, axles, pole-bolts, body,
shafts, are all furnished by neighboring trees, and the
pieces of which the telga is composed are fastened
together by means of strong rope. Nothing could be
more primitive, nothing could be less comfortable; but,
on the other hand, should any accident happen on the way,
nothing could be more easily repaired. There is no want
of firs on the Russian frontier, and axle-trees grow natural-
ly in forests.
The post extraordinary, known by the name of "perck-
ladnoi," is made by means of the telga, as any road is good
enough for it. It must be confessed that sometimes the
ropes which fasten the concern together break, and while
the hinder part remains stuck in some bog, the fore part
arrives at the post-house on two wheels; but this result is
DA Y AND N10ET IN A TARANTASS, 89
considered as quite satisfactory. Michael Strogoff would
have been obliged to employ a telga if he had not been
lucky enough to discover a tarantass.
It is to be hoped that the invention of Russian coach
builders will devise some improvement in this last-named
vehicle. Springs are wanting in it as well as in the telga;
in the absence of iron wood is not spared; but its four
wheels, with eight or nine feet between them, assure a
certain equilibrium over the jolting rough roads. A
splash-board protects the travelers from the mud, and
a strong leathern hood, which may be pulled quite over
the occupiers, shelters them from the great heat and
violent storms of the summer. The tarantass is as solid
and as easy to repair as the telga, and is, moreover, less
addicted to leaving its hinder part in the middle of the
road.
It was not without careful search that Michael managed
to discover this tarantass, and there was probably not a
second to be found in all the town of Perm. Notwith-
standing that, he haggled long about the price, for form's
sake, to act up to his part as Nicholas Korpanoff, a plain
merchant of Irkutsk.
Nadia had followed her companion in his search after a
suitable vehicle. Although the object of each was dif-
ferent, both were equally anxious to arrive and consequent-
ly to start. One would have said the same will animated
them both.
" Sister," said Michael, "I wish I could have found a
more comfortable conveyance for you."
" Do you say that to me, brother, when I would have
gone on foot, if need were, to rejoin my father!"
"I do not doubt your courage, Nadia, but there are
physical fatigues which a woman may be unable to
endure."
"I shall endure them, whatever they may be," replied
90 MICHAEL STROGOFF.
the girl. " If you ever hear a complaint from my lips you
may leave me in the road and continue your journey
alone."
Half an hour later on, the podorojna being presented
by Michael, three post-horses were harnessed to the taran-
tass. These animals, covered with long hair, were very like
long-legged bears. They were small, but spirited, being of
Siberian breed.
The way in which the iemschik had harnessed them
was thus : one, the largest, was secured between two long
shafts, on whose further end was a hoop, called a "douga,"
carrying tassels and bells; the two others were simply fas-
tened by ropes to the steps of the tarantass. This was the
complete harness, with mere strings for reins.
Neither Michael Strogoff nor the young Livonian girl
had any baggage. The rapidity with which one wished to
make the journey and the more than modest resources of
the other prevented them from embarrassing themselves
with packages. It was a fortunate thing, under the cir-
cumstances, for the tarantass could not have carried both
baggage and travelers. It was only made for two persons,
without counting the iemschik, who kept his equilibrium
on his narrow seat in a marvelous manner.
The iemschik is changed at every relay. The man who
drove the tarantass during the first stage was, like his horses,
a Siberian, and no less shaggy than they; long hair, cut
square on the forehead, hat with a turned-up brim, red
belt, coat with crossed facings and buttons stamped with
the imperial cipher. The iemschik, on coming up with his
team, threw an inquisitive glance at the passengers of the
tarantass. No luggage! — and had there been, where in
the world could he have stowed it? Rather shabby in
appearance, too. He looked contemptuous.
" Crows," said he, without caring whether he was over-
heard or not; " crows, at six kopecks a verst!"
DA Y AND NIGHT IN A T A RANT ASS. 91
" No, eagles!" said Michael, who understood the
iemschik's slang perfectly; " eagles — do you hear? — at nine
kopecks a verst and a tip besides."
He was answered by a merry crack of the whip.
In the language of the Russian postilions the ' ' crow "
is the stingy or poor traveler who at the post-houses only
pays two or three kopecks a verst for the horses. The
" eagle " is the traveler who does not mind expense, to
say nothing of liberal tips. Therefore the crow could no1
claim to fly as rapidly as the imperial bird.
Nadia and Michael immediately took their places in
the tarantass. A small store of provisions was put in the
box, in case at any time they were delayed in reaching
the post-houses, which are very comfortably provided
under direction of the State. The hood was pulled up,
as it was insupportably hot, and at twelve o'clock the
tarantass, drawn by its three horses, left Perm in a cloud of
dust.
The way in which the iemschik kept up the pace of his
team would have certainly astonished travelers who, being
neither Russians nor Siberians, were not accustomed to
this sort of thing. The leader, rather larger than the
others, kept to a steady long trot, perfectly regular,
whether up or down hill. The two other horses seemed
to know no other pace than the gallop, though they per-
formed many an eccentric curvette as they went along.
The iemschik, however, never touched them, only urging
them on by startling cracks of his whip. But what epithets
he lavished on them, including the names of all the saints
in the calendar, when they behaved like docile and con-
scientious animals! The strings which served as reins
would have had no influence on the spirited beasts, but
the words f( na pravo," to the right, " na levo," to the left,
pronounced in a guttural tone, were more effectual than
either bridle or snaffle.
92 MICHAEL STROGOFF.
And what amiable expressions, according to the cir-
cumstances!
" Go on, my doves!" the iemschik would say. "Go
on, pretty swallows! Fly, my little pigeons! Hold up,
my cousin on the left! Gee up, my little father on the
right!"
But when the pace slackened, what insulting expressions,
instantly understood by the sensitive animals!
" Go on, you wretched snail! Confound you, you slug!
I'll roast you alive, you tortoise, you!"
Whether or not it was from this way of driving, which
requires the iemschiks to possess strong throats more than
muscular arms, the tarantass flew along at a rate of from
twelve to fourteen miles an hour.
Michael Strogoff was accustomed both to the sort of
vehicle and the mode of traveling. Neither jerks nor jolts
incommoded him. He knew that a Eussian driver never
even tries to avoid either stones, ruts, bogs, fallen trees, or
trenches which may happen to be in the road. He was
used to all that. His companion ran a risk of being hurt
by the violent jolts of the tarantass, but she would not
complain.
For a little while Nadia did not speak. Then pos-
sessed with the one thought, that of reaching her journey's
end:
" I have calculated that there are three hundred versts
between Perm and Ekaterenburg, brother," said she.
" Am I right?"
"You are quite right, ISTadia," answered Michael;
"and when we have reached Ekaterenburg we shall be
at the foot of the Ural Mountains on the opposite side to
this."
" How long will it take to get across the mountains?"
"Forty-eight hours, for we shall travel day and night.
I say day and night, Nadia," added he, " for I cannot stop
DA Y AND NIGHT ffl A TARANTASS. 93
even for a moment, and I must go on without rest toward
Irkutsk."
u I shall not delay you, brother; no, not even for an
hour, and we will travel day and night."
" Well, then, Nadia, if the Tartar invasion has only left
the road open we shall arrive in twenty days."
"You have made this journey before?" asked Nadia.
"Many times."
"During winter we should have gone more rapidly and
surely, should we not?"
" Yes, especially with more rapidity, but you would have
suffered much from the frost and snow."
" What matter! Winter is the friend of Russia."
" Yes, Nadia, but what a constitution any one must
have to endure such friendship! I have often seen the
temperature in the Siberian steppes fall to more than
forty degrees below freezing-point! I have felt, notwith-
standing my reindeer coat, my heart growing chill, my
limbs stiffening, my feet freezing in triple woolen socks;
I have seen my sleigh horses covered with a coating of ice,
their breath congealed at their nostrils; I have seen the
brandy in my flask change into hard stone, on which not
even my knife could make an impression; but my sleigh
flew like the wind. Not an obstacle on the plain, white
and level further than the eye could reach. No rivers in
which one is obliged to look for a fordable passage. No
lakes which must be crossed in boats. Hard ice every-
where, the route open, the road sure. But at the price
of what suffering, Nadia, those alone could say who have
never returned, but whose bodies have been covered up
by the snow-storm."
" However, you have returned, brother," said Nadia.
" Yes, but I am a Siberian, and when quite a child I
used to follow my father to the chase, and so became
inured to these hardships. But when you said to me,
94 MICHAEL STROGOFF.
Nadia, that winter would not have stopped yon, that yon
would have gone alone, ready to struggle against the
frightful inclemencies of the Siberian climate, I seemed
to see you lost in the snow and falling, never to rise
again."
" How many times have you crossed the steppe in win-
ter?" asked the young Livonian.
" Three times, Nadia, when I was going to Omsk."
" And what were you going to do at Omsk?"
" See my mother, who was expecting me."
" And I am going to Irkutsk, where my father expects
me. I am taking him my mother's last words. That is as
much as to tell you, brother, that nothing would have pre-
vented me from setting out. "
"You are a brave girl, Nadia," replied Michael. " God
himself would have led you."
All day the tarantass was driven rapidly by the iemschiks,
who succeeded each other at every stage. The eagles of
the mountain would not have found their name dishon-
ored by these "eagles "of the highway. The high price
paid for each horse and the tips dealt out so freely recom-
mended the travelers in a special way. Perhaps the post-
masters thought it singular that after the publication of
the order a young man and his sister, evidently both Rus-
sians, could travel freely across Siberia, which was closed
to every one else, but their papers were all en regie and
they had the right to pass.
However, Michael Strogoff and Nadia were not the only
travelers on their way from Perm to Ekaterenburg. At
the first stages the courier of the czar had learned that a
carriage preceded them, but as there was no want of horses
he did not trouble himself about that.
During the day halts were made for food alone. At the
post-houses could be found lodging and provision. Be-
sides, if there was not an inn the house of the Russian
DA Y AND NIGHT IN A TARANTASS. 95
peasant would have been no less hospitable. In the vil-
lages, which are almost all alike, with their white-walled,
green-roofed chapels, the traveler might knock at any door
and it would be opened to him. The mujik would come
out, smiling and extending his hand to his guest. He
would offer him bread and salt, the burning charcoal
would be put into the samovar, and he would be made
quite at home. The family would turn out themselves
rather than that he should not have room. The stranger
is the relation of all. He is " one sent by God."
On arriving that evening Michael instinctively asked the
postmaster how many hours ago the carriage which pre-
ceded them had passed that stage.
"Two hours ago, little father," replied the postmaster.
"Isitaberlin?"
"No, a telga."
" How many travelers?"
"Two."
"And they are going fast?"
"Eagles!"
" Let them put the horses to as soon as possible."
Michael and Nadia, resolved not to stop even for an
hour, traveled all night.
The weather continued fine, though the atmosphere was
heavy and gradually becoming charged with electricity.
Not a cloud was in the sky, but a sort of mist ascended
from the ground. It was to be hoped that a storm would
not burst while they were among the mountains, for there
it would be terrible. Being accustomed to read atmos-
pheric signs, Michael Strogoff knew that a struggle of the
elements was approaching.
The night passed, without incident. Notwithstanding
the jolting of the tarantass, Nadia was able to sleep for
some hours. The hood was partly raised so as to give as
much air as there was in the stifling atmosphere.
96 MICHAEL STROGOFF.
Michael kept awake all night, mistrusting the iem-
schiks, who are only too ready to sleep at their posts,
and not an hour was lost at the relays, not an hour on the
road.
The next day, the 20th of July, at about eight o'clock
in the morning, they caught the first glimpse of the Ural
Mountains in the east. However, this important chain
which separates Russia in Europe from Siberia was still at
a great distance, and they could not hope to reach it until
the end of the day. The passage of the mountains must
necessarily be performed during the next night.
The sky was very cloudy all day and the temperature
was therefore more bearable, but the weather was very
threatening.
It would perhaps have been more prudent not to have
ascended the mountains during the night, and Michael
would not have done so had he been permitted to wait;
but when, at the last stage, the iemschik drew his atten-
tion to a peal of thunder reverberating among the rocks,
he merely said:
"Is a telga still before us?"
" Yes."
" How long is it in advance?"
"Nearly an hour."
" Forward, and a triple tip if we are at Ekaterenburg
to-morrow morning."
A STORM IN THE URAL MOUNTAINS. 97
CHAPTER X.
A STORM IN THE URAL MOUNTAINS.
The Ural Mountains extend in a length of nearly three
thousand versts between Europe and Asia. Whether they
are called the Urals, which is the Tartar, or the Poyas,
which is the Russian name, they are correctly so termed;
for these names signify ' i belt " in both languages. Rising
on the shores of the Arctic Sea, they reach the borders of
the Caspian. Such was the barrier to be crossed by
Michael Strogoff before he could enter Siberian Russia,
and, as has been said, he acted wisely in taking the road
leading from Perm to Ekaterenburg, situated on the east-
ern slope of the Ural Mountains. This was the easiest
and surest route, as it was that of all the commerce of
Central Asia. The mountains could be crossed in one
night if no accident happened. Unfortunately, thunder
muttering in the distance announced that a storm was at
hand. The electric tension was such that it could not be
dispersed without a tremendous explosion, which in the
peculiar state of the atmosphere would be very terrible.
Michael took care that his young companion should be
as well protected as possible. The hood, which might
have been easily blown away, was fastened more securely
with ropes, crossed above and at the back. The traces
were doubled, and as an additional precaution the nave-
boxes were stuffed with straw, as much to increase the
strength of the wheels as to lessen the jolting, unavoidable
on a dark night. Lastly, the fore and hinder parts,
98 MICHAEL STROGOFF.
connected simply by the axles to the body of the tarantass,
were joined one to the other by a cross-bar, fixed by means
of pins and screws. This bar took the place of the curved
bar which in berlins, suspended on the swanVnecks,
fastens the two axles one to the other.
Nadia resumed her place in the cart and Michael took
his seat beside her. Before the lowered hood hung two
leathern curtains, which would in some degree protect the
travelers against the wind and rain.
Two great lanterns, suspended on the left of the
iemschik's seat, threw a pale glimmer scarcely sufficient to
light the way, but serving as warning lights to prevent any
other carriage from running into them.
It was well that all these precautions were taken, in
expectation of a rough night.
" Xadia, we are ready," said Michael Strogoff.
" Let us start," answered the young girl.
The order was given to the iemschik, and away rattled
the tarantass up the first slopes of the Ural Mountains.
It was eight o'clock, and darkness was coming on in
spite of the lengthened twilight of these latitudes. Masses
of vapor, as yet disturbed by no wind, hung in the vault
of heaven. Although they had no lateral motion, they
were evidently gradually approaching the earth. Some of
these clouds, emitting a lurid glare, enveloped the moun-
tains on descending, as if chased down by some upper
storm. The road led up toward these dense masses, and
should the clouds not soon resolve into rain, the fog
would be such that the tarantass would be unable to
advance without the danger of falling over some precipice.
The Ural chain does not attain any very great height,
the highest summit not being more than five thousand
feet. Eternal snow is there unknown, and what is piled
up by the Siberian winter is soon melted by the summer
sun. Shrubs and trees grow to a considerable height.
A STORM IN THE URAL MOUNTAINS. 99
The iron and copper mines, as well as those of precious
stones, draw a considerable number of workmen to that
region. Also those villages termed "gavody" are there
met with pretty frequently, and the road through the great
passes is easily practicable for post-carriages.
But what is easy enough in fine weather and broad
daylight offers difficulties and perils when the elements
are engaged in fierce warfare and the traveler is in the
midst of it.
Michael Strogoff knew from former experience what a
storm in the mountains was, and perhaps this would be as
terrible as the snow-storms which burst forth with such
vehemence in the winter.
Eain was not yet falling, so Michael raised the leathern
curtains which protected the interior of the tarantass and
looked out, watching the sides of the road, peopled with
fantastic shadows, caused by the wavering light of the
lanterns.
Nadia, motionless, ner arms folded, gazed forth also,
though without leaning forward, while her companion,
his body half out of the carriage, examined both sky and
earth.
The calmness of the atmosphere was very threatening,
the air being perfectly still. It was just as if Nature were
half-stifled and could no longer breathe; her lungs, that
is to say those gloomy, dense clouds, not being able to
perform their functions. The silence would have been
complete but for the grindings of the wheels of the
tarantass over the road, the creaking of the axles and
boards, the snorting of the horses and the clattering of
their iron hoofs among the pebbles, sparks flying out on
every side.
The road was perfectly deserted. The tarantass en-
countered neither pedestrians nor horsemen nor a vehicle
of any description in the narrow defiles of the Ural on
100 MICHAEL STROGOFF.
this threatening night. Not even the fire of a charcoal-
burner was visible in the woods, not an encampment of
miners near the mines, not a hnt among the brushwood.
Under these peculiar circumstances it might have been
allowable to postpone the journey across the mountains till
the morning. Michael Strogoff, however, had not hesi-
tated, he had no right to stop, but then — and it began to
cause him some anxiety — what possible reason could those
travelers in the telga ahead have for being so imprudent?
Michael remained thus on the lookout for some time.
About eleven o'clock lightning began to blaze continu-
ously in the sky. The shadows of huge pines at different
elevations appeared and disappeared in the rapid light.
Sometimes when the tarantass neared the side of the road
deep gulfs, lit up by the flashes, could be seen yawning
beneath them. From time tc time, on their vehicle giving
a worse lurch than usual, they knew that they were cross-
ing a bridge of roughly hewn planks thrown over some
chasm, thunder appearing actually to be rumbling below
them. Besides this, a booming sound filled the air, which
increased as they mounted higher. With these different
noises rose the shouts and exclamations of the iemschik,
sometimes scolding, sometimes coaxing his poor beasts, who
were suffering more from the oppression of the air than
the roughness of the roads. Even the bells on the shafts
could no longer rouse them, and they stumbled every
instant.
" At what time shall we reach the top of the ridge?"
asked Michael of the iemschik.
" At one o'clock in the morning if we ever get there at
all," replied he, with a shake of his head.
"Why, my friend, this will not be your first storm in
the mountains, will it?"
" No, and pray God it may not be my last!"
" Are you afraid?"
A STORM IN THE URAL MOUNTAINS. 101
"No, I'm not afraid, but I repeat that I think you were
wrong in starting."
" I should have been still more wrong had I stayed."
" Hold up, my pigeons !" cried the iemschik. It was his
business to obey, not to question.
Just then a distant noise was heard, shrill whistling
through the atmosphere, so calm a minute before. By the
light of a dazzling flash, almost immediately followed by a
tremendous clap of thunder, Michael could see huge pines
on a high peak bending before the blast. The wind was
unchained, but as yet it was the upper air alone which was
disturbed. Successive crashes showed that many of the old
and lightly rooted trees had been unable to resist the burst
of the hurricane. An avalanche of shattered trunks swept
across the road and dashed over the precipice on the left,
two hundred feet in front of the tarantass.
The horses stopped short.
"Get up, my pretty doves!" cried the iemschik, adding
the cracking of his whip to the rumbling of the thunder.
Michael took Nadia's hand.
"Are you asleep, sister?" he asked.
"No, brother."
" Be ready for anything; here comes the storm!"
" I am ready."
Michael Strogoff had only just time to draw the leathern
curtains, when the storm was upon them.
The iemschik leaped from his seat and seized his horses'
heads, for terrible danger threatened the whole party.
The tarantass was at a standstill at a turning of the road,
down which swept the hurricane. It was absolutely neces-
sary to hold the animals' heads to the wind, for if the car-
riage was taken broadside it must infallibly capsize and be
dashed over the precipice. The frightened horses reared
and their driver could not manage to quiet them. His
friendly expressions had been succeeded by the most insult-
102 MICHAEL STROGOFF.
ing epithets. Nothing was of any use. The unfortunate
animals, blinded by the lightning, terrified by the incessant
peals of thunder, rattling like artillery among the rocks,
threatened every instant to break their traces and escape.
The iemschik had no longer any control over his team.
At that moment Michael Strogoff threw himself from
the tarantass and rushed to his assistance. Endowed
with more than common strength, he managed, though not
without difficulty, to master the horses.
The storm now raged with redoubled fury. A perfect
avalanche of stones and trunks of trees began to roll down
the slope above them.
"We cannot stop here," said Michael.
" We cannot stop anywhere," returned the iemschik, all
his energies apparently overcome by terror. " The storm
will soon send us to the bottom of the mountain, and that
by the shortest way."
" Take you that horse, coward," returned Michael; " Fll
look after this one."
A fresh burst of the storm interrupted him. The driver
and he were obliged to crouch upon the ground to avoid
being blown down. But the carriage, notwithstanding
their efforts and those of the horses, was gradually moving
back, and had it not been stopped by the trunk of a tree
it would have been forced over the edge of the precipice.
"Do not be afraid, Nadia!" cried Michael Strogoff.
'' I'm not afraid," replied the young Livonian, her voice
not betraying the slightest emotion.
The rumbling of the thunder ceased for an instant; the
terrible blast had swept past into the gorge below.
"Will you go back?" said the iemschik.
" No, we must go on! Once past this turning we shall
have the shelter of the slope."
" But the horses won't move!"
" Do as I do and drag them on."
A STORM IN THE URAL MOUNTAINS. 103
"The storm will come back!"
" Do you mean to obey?"
"Do you order it?"
" The father orders it!" answered Michael, for the first
time invoking the all-powerful name of the emperor.
"Forward, my swallows!" cried the iemschik, seizing
one horse, while Michael did the same to the other.
Thus urged, the horses began to struggle onward. They
could no longer rear, and the middle horse not being
hampered by the others could keep in the center of the
road. It was with the greatest difficulty that either men
or beasts could stand against the wind, and for every three
steps they took in advance they lost one, and even two, by
being forced backward. They slipped, they fell, they got
up again. The vehicle ran a great risk of being smashed.
If the hood had not been securely fastened it would have
been blown away long before this. Michael Strogoff and
the iemschik took more than two hours in getting up this
bit of road, only half a verst in length, so directly exposed
was it to the lashing of the storm. The danger there was
not only from the wind which battered against the trav-
elers, but from the avalanche of stones and broken trunks
which were hurtling through the air above their heads.
Suddenly, during a flash of lightning, one of these
masses was seen crashing and rolling down the mountain
toward the tarantass.
The iemschik uttered a cry.
Michael Strogoff in vain brought his whip down on the
team; they refused to move.
But a few feet further on and the mass would pass be-
hind them!
Michael saw the tarantass struck, his companion crushed;
he saw there was no time to drag her from the vehicle.
Then, possessed in this hour of peril with superhuman
strength, he threw himself behind it, and planting his feet
on the ground, by main force placed it out of danger.
104 MICUAEL STIWGOFF.
The enormous mass as it passed grazed his chest, taking
away his breath as though it had been a cannon-ball, then
crushing to powder the flints on the road, it bounded into
the abyss below.
" Oh, brother!" cried Nadia, who had seen it all by the
light of the flashes.
" Nadia!" replied Michael, " fear nothing!"
" It is not on my own account that I fear!"
" God is with us, sister!"
" With me truly, brother, since he has sent thee in my
way!" murmured the young girl.
The impetus the tarantass had received was not to be
lost, and the tired horses once more moved forward.
Dragged, so to speak, by Michael and the iemschik, they
toiled on toward a narrow pass, lying north and south,
where they would be protected from the direct sweep of
the tempest. At one end a huge rock jutted out, round
the summit of which whirled an eddy. Behind the shelter
of the rock there was a comparative calm, yet once within
the circumference of the cyclone, neither man nor beast
could resist its power.
Indeed, some firs which towered above this protection
were in a trice shorn of their tops, as though a gigantic
scythe had swept across them.
The storm was now at its height. The lightning filled
the defile and the thunder-claps had become one continued
peal. The ground, struck by the concussion, trembled
as though the whole Ural chain was shaken to its founda-
tions.
Happily the tarantass could be so placed that the storm
might strike it obliquely. But the counter-currents, di-
rected toward it by the slope, could not be so well avoided,
and so violent were they that every instant it seemed as
though it would be dashed to pieces against the rocks.
Nadia was obliged to leave her seat, and Michael, by the
A STORM IIS TIIHJ URAL MOUNTAINS. 105
light of one of the lanterns, discovered an excavation bear-
ing the marks of a miner's pick, where the young girl
could rest in safety until they were once more ready to
make a start.
Just then — it was one o'clock in the morning — the rain
began to fall in torrents, and this in addition to the wind
made the storm truly frightful, without, however, extin-
guishing the lightning. To continue the journey at pres-
ent was utterly impossible. Besides, having reached this
pass, they had only to descend the slopes of the Ural
Mountains, and to descend now, with the road torn up by
a thousand mountain torrents, in these eddies of wind and
rain, was utter madness.
"To wait is indeed serious," said Michael, "but it must
certainly be done, to avoid still longer detentions. The
very violence of the storm makes me hope that it will not
last long. About three o'clock the day will begin to break,
and the descent, which we cannot risk in the dark, we
shall be able, if not with ease, at least without such dan-
ger, to attempt after sunrise."
"Let us wait, brother," replied Nadia; "but if you de-
lay, let it not be to spare me fatigue or danger."
" Nadia, I know that you are ready to brave everything,
but in exposing both of us I risk more than my life, more
than yours; I am not fulfilling my task, that duty which
before everything else I must accomplish."
" A duty!" murmured Nadia.
Just then a bright flash lit up the sky and seemed, so to
speak, to volatilize the rain. Then a loud clap followed.
The air was filled with a sulphurous suffocating vapor, and
a clump of huge pines, struck by the electric fluid, scarcely
twenty feet from the tarantass, flared up like a gigantic
torch.
The iemschik was struck to the ground by a counter-
shock, but regaining his feet found himself happily unhurt,
106 MICHAEL STROGOFF.
Just as the last growlings of the thunder were lost in
the recesses of the mountain Michael felt Nadia's hand
pressing his, and he heard her whisper these words in his
ear:
"Cries, brother! Listen I"
TRA VELERS IN DISTRESS. 107
CHAPTER XL
TRAVELERS IN DISTRESS.
During the momentary lull which followed, shouts could
be distinctly heard from a person on the road further on
and at no great distance from the tarantass. It was an
earnest appeal, evidently from some traveler in distress.
Michael listened attentively.
The iemschik also listened, but shook his head, as
though he thought it impossible to render any assistance.
" They are travelers calling for help," cried Nadia.
" They must expect nothing from us," replied the
iemschik.
"Why not?" cried Michael. "Ought not we do for
them what they would do for us under similar circum-
stances?"
"Surely you will not expose the carriage and the
horses!"
" I will go on foot," replied Michael, interrupting the
iemschik.
" I will go, too, brother," said the young girl.
"No, remain here, Nadia. The iemschik will stay with
you. I do not wish to leave him alone."
" I will stay," replied Nadia.
" Whatever happens, do not leave this spot."
"You will find me where I now am."
Michael pressed her hand, and turning the corner of
the slope disappeared in the darkness.
"Your brother is wrong," said the iemschik.
108 MICHAEL STROGOFF.
"He is right, " replied Nadia simply.
Meanwhile Michael Strogoff strode rapidly on. If he
was in a great hurry to aid the travelers, he was also very
anxious to know who it was that had not been hindered
from starting by the storm, for he had no doubt that the
cries came from the telga which had so long preceded the
tarantass.
The rain had stopped, but the storm was raging with
redoubled fury. The shouts, borne on the air, became
more and more distinct. Nothing was' to be seen of the
pass in which Nadia had remained. The road wound
along and the flashes showed only the slope above it.
The squalls, checked by the corners and turns of the road,
formed eddies highly dangerous, to pass which without
being taken off his legs Michael had to use his utmost
strength.
He soon perceived that the travelers whose shouts he
had heard were at no great distance. Even then, on
account of the darkness, Michael could not see them, yet
he heard distinctly their words.
This is what he heard and what caused him some
surprise :
" Are you coming back, blockhead?"
" You shall have a taste of the knout at the next stage."
"Do you hear, you devil's postilion? Halloo! Below
there!"
" This is how a carriage takes you in this country!"
" Yes, this is what you call a telga!"
" Oh, that abominable driver! He goes on and does
not appear to have discovered that he has left us behind!"
" To deceive me, too! Me, an honorable Englishman!
I will make a complaint at the chancellor's office and have
the fellow hanged."
This was said in a very angry tone, but Michael heard
the speaker suddenly interrupted by a burst of laughter
from his companion, who exclaimed:
TRA VELERS IN DISTRESS. 109
" Well! this is a good joke, I must say."
" You venture to laugh!" said the Briton angrily.
" Certainly, my dear confrere, and that most heartily.
'Pon my word, it is too good. I never saw anything to
come up to it."
Just then a crashing clap of thunder reechoed through
the defile and then died away among the distant peaks.
When the sound of the last growl had ceased the merry
voice went on:
" Yes, it undoubtedly is a good joke. This machine
certainly never came from France."
"Nor from England," replied the other.
On the road, by the light of the flashes, Michael saw,
twenty yards from him, two travelers seated side by side in
a most peculiar vehicle, the wheels of which were deeply
imbedded in the ruts formed in the road.
He approached them, the one grinning from ear to ear
and the other gloomily contemplating his situation, and
recognized them as the two reporters who had been his
companions on board the Caucasus from Mjni-Novgorod
to Perm.
" Good-morning to you, sir," cried the Frenchman.
" Delighted to see you here. Let me introduce you to my
intimate enemy, Mr. Blount."
The English reporter bowed and was about to introduce
in his turn his companion, Alcide Jolivet, in accordance
with the rules of society, when Michael interrupted him:
"Perfectly unnecessary, sir. We already know each
other, for we traveled together on the Volga. "
"Ah, yes! exactly so! Mr. "
"Nicholas Korpanoff, merchant, of Irkutsk," replied
Michael. " But may I know what has happened which,
though a misfortune to your companion, amuses you so
much?"
" Certainly, Mr. Korpanolf," replied Alcide. " Fancy!
HO MICHAEL STROGOFF.
our driver has gone off with the front part of this confounded
carriage and left us quietly seated in the back part! So
here we are in the worse half of a telga; no driver, no
horses. Is it not a joke?"
" No joke at all/5 said the Englishman.
" Indeed it is, my dear fellow. You do not know how
to look at the bright side of things."
" How, pray, are we to go on with our journey?" asked
Harry Blount.
" That is the easiest thing in the world," replied Alcide.
li Go and harness yourself to what remains of our cart. I
will take the reins and call you my little pigeon, like a
true iemschik, and you will trot off like a real post-horse."
" M. Jolivet," replied the Englishman, "this joking is
going too far. It passes all limits and "
" Now do be quiet, my dear sir. "When you are done
up I will take your place; and call me a broken-winded
snail and faint-hearted tortoise if I don't take you over the
ground at a rattling pace."
Alcide said all this with such perfect good-humor that
Michael could not help smiling.
" Gentlemen," said he, " here is a better plan. We have
now reached the highest ridge of the Ural chain, and thus
have merely to descend the slopes of the mountain. My
carriage is close by, only two hundred yards behind. I will
lend you one of my horses; harness it to the remains of the
telga, and to-morrow, if no accident befalls us, we will
arrive together at Ekaterenburg."
"That, Mr. Korpanoff," said Alcide, "is indeed a
generous proposal."
" Indeed, sir," replied Michael, " I would willingly offer
you places in my tarantass, but it will only hold two and
my sister and I already fill it."
"Ideally, sir," answered Alcide, "with your horse and
our demi-telga my companion and I will go to the world's
end."
TRA VELERS IN DISTRESS. HI
"Sir/' said Harry Blount, " we most willingly accept
your kind offer. And as to that iemschik "
"Oh! I assure you that you are not the first travelers
who have met with a similar misfortune/' replied Michael.
" But why should not our driver come back? He knows
perfectly well that he has left us behind, wretch that he is!"
" He! He never suspected such a thing."
"What! the fellow not know that he was leaving the
better half of his telga behind?"
" Not a bit, and in all good faith is driving the fore part
into Ekaterenburg."
" Did I not tell you that it was a good joke, confrere?"
cried Alcide.
" Then, gentlemen, if you will follow me," said Michael,
" we will return to my carriage and "
" But the telga," observed the Englishman.
"There is not the slightest fear that it will fly away, my
dear Blount!" exclaimed Alcide. " It has taken such good
root in the ground that if it were left here until next
spring it would begin to bud."
" Come then, gentlemen," said Michael Strogoff, " and
we will bring up the tarantass."
The Frenchman and the Englishman, descending from
their seats, no longer the hinder one, since the front had
taken its departure, followed Michael.
Walking along, Alcide Jolivet chattered away as usual,
with his invariable good-humor.
"Faith, Mr. Korpanoif," said he to Michael, "you have
indeed got us out of a bad scrape."
"I have only done, sir," replied Michael, "what any
one would have done in my place. If travelers did not
help one another there might as well be no roads at all."
" Well, sir, you have done us a good turn, and if you are
going further in these steppes we may possibly meet again,
and "
112 MICHAEL STROGOFF.
Alcide Jolivet did not put any direct question to Michael
as to where he was going, but the latter, not wishing it to
be suspected that he had anything to conceal, at once
replied :
u I am bound for Omsk, gentlemen."
"Mr. Blount and I," replied Alcide, "go where danger
is certainly to be found, and without doubt news also."
" To the invaded provinces?" asked Michael with some
earnestness.
" Exactly so, Mr. Korpanoff ; and we may possibly meet
there."
"Indeed, sir," replied Michael, "I have little love for
cannon-balls or lance-points, and am by nature too great a
lover of peace to venture where fighting is going on."
" I am sorry, sir, extremely sorry; we must only regret
that we shall separate so soon! But on leaving Ekateren-
burg it may be our fortunate fate to travel together, if only
for a few days?"
"Do you go on to Omsk?" asked Michael, after a
moment's reflection.
"We know nothing as yet," replied Alcide; "but we
shall certainly go as far as Ishim, and once there our move-
ments must depend on circumstances."
"Well, then, gentlemen," said Michael, "we will be
fellow-travelers as far as Ishim."
Michael would certainly have preferred to travel alone,
but he could not, without appearing at least singular, seek
to separate himself from the two reporters, who were taking
the same road that he was. Besides, since Alcide and his
companion intended to make some stay at Ishim, he
thought it rather convenient than otherwise to make that
part of the journey in their company.
Then in a perfectly indifferent tone he remarked:
" Do you know, with any degree of certainty, where this
Tartar invasion is?"
TRA VELERS IN DISTRESS. 1 13
u Indeed, sir/' replied Alcide, " we only know what they
said at Perm. Feofar-Khan's Tartars have invaded the
whole province of Semipolatinsk, and for some days, by
forced marches, they have been descending the course of
the Irtish. You must hurry if you wish to get to Omsk
before them!"
" Indeed I must," replied Michael.
t( It is reported also that Colonel Ogareff has succeeded
in passing the frontier in disguise, and that he will not be
slow in joining the Tartar chief in the revolted country."
" But how do they know it?" asked Michael, whom this
news, more or less true, so directly concerned.
" Oh! as these things are always known," replied Alcide;
"it is in the air."
" Then have you really reason to think that Colonel
Ogareff is in Siberia?"
ff I myself have heard it said that he was to take the
road from Kasan to Ekaterenburg. "
"Ah! you know that, M. Jolivet?" said Harry Blount,
roused from his silence.
" I know it," replied Alcide.
"And do you know that he went disguised as a gypsy?"
asked Blount.
"As a gypsy!" exclaimed Michael almost involuntarily,
and he suddenly remembered the look of the old Bohemian
at Nijni-Novgorod, his voyage on board the Caucasus, and
his disembarking at Kasan.
"Just well enough to make a few remarks on the
subject in a letter to my cousin," replied Alcide, smiling.
" You lost no time at Kasan," dryly observed the Eng-
lishman.
"No, my dear fellow! and while the Caucasus was lay-
ing in her supply of fuel I was employed in obtaining a
store of information."
Michael no longer listened to the repartee which Harry
H4 MICHAEL 8TR000FF
BlomJ and Alcide exchanged. Be was thinking of the
gypsy troupe, of the old Tsigane whose face he had not
i able to see, and of the strange woman who accom-
panied him, and then of the peculiar glance which she had
casl at him. As he was trying to recollect all the details,
close by he heard a pistol-shot.
"Ah! forward, sirs!" cried he.
" Halloo!" said Alcide to himself, " this quiet merchant
who always avoids bullets is in a great hurry to go where
they are flying about just now!"
Quickly followed by Harry Blount, who was not a man
to be behind in danger, he dashed after Michael. In an-
other instant the three were opposite the projecting rock
which protected the tarantass at the turning of the road.
The clump of pines struck by the lightning was still
burning. There was no one to be seen. However,
Michael was not mistaken; a report had certainly reached
him.
Suddenly a dreadful growling was heard, and then an-
other report from close to the slope.
"A bear!" cried Michael, who could not mistake the
growling. "Nadia! Nadia!"
And then, drawing his cutlass from his belt, Michael
bounded round the buttress behind which the young girl
had promised to wait.
The pines, completely enveloped in flames, threw a wild
glare on the scene.
As Michael reached the tarantass a huge animal re-
treated toward him.
It was a monstrous bear. The tempest had driven it
from the woods which bristle on the Ural slopes, and it
had come to seek refuge in this cave, doubtless its habitual
retreat, which Nadia then occupied.
Two of the horses, terrified at the presence of the enor-
mous creature, breaking their traces, had escaped, and the
TEA VELERS IN DISTRESS. 115
iemschik, thinking only of his beasts, leaving Nadia face
to face with the bear, had gone in pursuit of them.
But the brave girl had not lost her presence of mind.
The animal, which had not at first seen her, was attacking
the remaining horse. Nadia, leaving the shelter in which
she had been crouching, had run to the carriage, taken one
of Michael's revolvers, and advancing resolutely toward the
bear had fired close to it.
The animal, slightly wounded in the shoulder, turned on
the girl, who rushed for protection behind the tarantass,
but then, seeing that the horse was attempting to break its
traces, and knowing that if it did so and the others were
not recovered their journey could not be continued, with
the most perfect coolness she again approached the bear,
and as it raised its paws to strike her down gave it the con-
tents of the second barrel.
This was the report which Michael had just heard. In
an instant he was on the spot. Another bound and he
was between the bear and the girl. His arm made one
movement upward, and the enormous beast, ripped up by
that terrible knife, fell to the ground a lifeless mass. He
had executed in splendid style the famous blow of the
Siberian hunters, who endeavor not to damage the precious
fur of the bear, which fetches a high price.
" You are not wounded, sister?" said Michael, springing
to the side of the young girl.
" No, brother," replied Nadia.
At that moment the two journalists came up. Alcide
seized the horse's head and in an instant his strong wrist
mastered it. His companion and he had seen Michael's
rapid stroke.
"Bravo!" cried Alcide. "For a simple merchant, Mr.
Korpanoff, you handle the hunter's knife in a most
masterly fashion."
"Most masterly, indeed," added Harry.
HQ MICHAEL STROGOFR
" Id Siberia/' replied Michael, "we are obliged to do a
little of everything. "
Alcide regarded him attentively.
Seen in the bright glare, his knife dripping'with blood,
his tall figure, his determined air, his foot placed firmly on
the huge carcass, he was indeed worth looking at.
" A formidable fellow," said Alcide to himself.
Then advancing respectfully, his hat in his hand, he
saluted the young girl.
Nadia bowed slightly.
Alcide turning toward his companion:
" The sister worthy of the brother!" said he. "Now,
were I a bear I should not meddle with a couple at the same
time so brave and so charming."
Harry Blonnt, perfectly upright, stood, hat in hand, at
some distance. His companion's easy manners only in-
creased his usual stiffness.
At that moment the iemschik, who had succeeded in
recapturing his two horses, reappeared. He cast a regret-
ful glance at the magnificent animal lying on the ground,
loath to leave it to the birds of prey, and then proceeded
once more to harness his team.
Michael acquainted him with the travelers' situation and
his intention of putting one of the horses at their
disposal.
" As you please," replied the iemschik. " Only, you
know, two carriages instead of one."
" All right, my friend," said Alcide, who understood the
insinuation, " we will pay double."
"Then gee up, my turtle-doves!" cried the iemschik.
Nadia again took her place in the tarantass. Michael
and his companions followed on foot.
It was three o'clock. The storm, now decreasing no
longer, swept with terrific violence across the defile. The
remainder of the ascent was rapidly performed.
TRA VELSR8 IN DISTRESS. 11?
When the first Btreaks of daybreak appeared the tarantass
had reached the telga, whieh was still conscientiously im-
bedded as far as the center of the wheels. Such being the
case, it can be easily understood how a sudden jerk would
separate the front from the hinder part. One of the side
horses of the tarantass was harnessed by means of cords to
the remains of the telga, the reporters took their place on
the seat of this singular equipage, and the two carriages
started off at the same moment. They had now only to
descend the Ural slopes, in doing which there was not the
slightest difficulty.
Six hours afterward the two vehicles, the tarantass pre-
ceding the telga, arrived at Ekaterenburg, nothing worthy
of note having happened in the descent.
The first person the reporters perceived at the door of
the post-house was their iemschik, who appeared to be wait-
ing for them.
This worthy Russian had a fine open countenance, and
without the slightest hesitation he smilingly approached
the travelers, and holding out his hand, in a quiet tone he
demanded the usual ponr-boire.
This very cool request roused Harry Blount's ire to its
highest pitch, and had not the iemschik prudently re-
treated a straight-out blow of the fist, in true British
boxing style, would have paid him all his claims of " na
vodkou."
Alcide Jolivet, at this burst of anger, laughed as he had
never laughed before.
" But the poor devil is quite right!" he cried. " He is
perfectly right, my dear fellow. It is not his fault if we
did not know how to follow him!"
Then drawing several kopecks from his pocket:
" Here my friend," said he, handing them to the iem-
schik, "take them. If you have not earned them that is
not your fault."
118 MICHAEL STROGOFF
This redoubled Mr. Blount's irritation. He even began
to speak of a lawsuit against the owner of the telga.
"A lawsuit in Russia, my dear fellow!" cried Alcide.
" Things must indeed change should it ever be brought to
a conclusion! Did you never hear the story of the wet-
nurse who claimed payment for twelve months' nursing of
some poor little infant?"
" 1 never heard it," replied Harry Blount.
" Then you do not know what that suckling had
become by the time judgment was given in favor of the
nurse?"
" What was he, pray?"
" Colonel of the Imperial Guard!"
At this reply all burst into a laugh.
Alcide, enchanted with his own joke, drew out his
note-book, and in it wrote the following memorandum,
destined to figure in a forthcoming French and Russian
dictionary:
" Telga, a Russian carriage with four wheels, that is
when it starts; with two wheels when it arrives at its
destination."
PRO VOGA TION. 119
CHAPTER XII.
PROVOCATION.
Ekaterenburg, geographically, is an Asiatic city, for
it is situated beyond the Ural Mountains, on the furthest
eastern slopes of the chain. Nevertheless it belongs to
the government of Perm, and consequently is included in
one of the great divisions of European Russia. It is as
though a morsel of Siberia lay in Russian jaws.
Neither Michael nor his companions were likely to
experience the slightest difficulty in obtaining means of
continuing their journey in so large a town as Ekateren-
burg. It was founded in 1723 and has since become a
place of considerable size, for in it is the chief mint of the
empire. There also are the headquarters of the officials
employed in the management of the mines. Thus the town
is the center of an important district, abounding in manu-
factories principally for the working and refining of gold
and platina.
Just now the population of Ekaterenburg had greatly
'ncreased, many Russians and Siberians, menaced by the
Tartar invasion, having collected there, driven from those
provinces already overrun by the hordes of Feofar-Khan and
the Kirgis country, which extends to the southwest of the
Irtish as far as the frontiers of Turkestan.
Thus, though it had been so troublesome a matter to
find horses and vehicles when going to Ekaterenburg, there
was no difficulty in leaving it; for under present circum-
stances few travelers cared to venture on the Siberian
roads.
12Q MICHAEL STROGOFF.
So it happened that Blount and Alcide had not the
slightest trouble in replacing by a sound telga the famous
demi-carriage which had managed to take them to Ekate-
renburg. As to Michael, he retained his tarantass, which
was not much the worse for its journey across the Urals,
and he had only to harness three good horses to it to take
him swiftly over the road to Irkutsk.
As far as Tioumen, and even up to Novo-Zaimskoe,
this road has slight inclines, which gentle undulations are
the first signs of the slopes of the Ural Mountains. But
After Novo-Zaimskoe begins the immense steppe which
extends almost as far as Krasnoiarsk, over a space of
seventeen hundred versts.
At Ishim, as we have said, the reporters intended to
stop, that is, at about six hundred and thirty versts from
Ekaterenburg. There they intended to be guided by
circumstances as to their route across the invaded country,
either together or separately, according as their news-
hunting instinct set them on one track or another.
This road from Ekaterenburg to Ishim — which passes
through Irkutsk — was the only one which Michael could
take. But as he did not run after news and wished, on
the contrary, to avoid the country devastated by the
invaders, he determined to stop nowhere.
" I am very happy to make part of my journey in your
company," said he to his new companions, " but I must
tell you that I am most anxious to reach Omsk; for my
sister and I are going to rejoin our mother. Who can say
whether we shall arrive before the Tartars reach the town?
I must therefore stop at the post-houses only long enough
to change horses and must travel day and night."
" That is exacty what we intend doing," replied Blount.
"Good," replied Michael; "but do not lose an instant.
Buy or hire a carriage whose "
"Whose hind wheels," added Alcide, "are warranted to
arrive at the same time as its front wheels."
PROVOCATION. 121
Half ai hour afterward the energetic Frenchman had
found a tarantass as nearly as possible like Michael's, and
in which he and Ilia companion at once seated themselves.
Michael and Nadia once more took their places in their
carriage, and at twelve o'clock the two vehicles left the
town of Ekaterenburg together.
Nadia was at last in Siberia, on that long road which
led to Irkutsk. What must then have been the thoughts
of the young girl? Three strong, swift horses were taking
her across that land of exile where her parent was con-
demned to live for how long she knew not, and sd far from
his native land. But she scarcely noticed those long
steppes over which the tarantass was rolling, and which at
onetime she had despaired of ever seeing, for her eyes were
gazing at the horizon, beyond which she knew her banished
father was. She saw nothing of the country across which
she was traveling at the rate of fifteen versts an hour;
nothing of these regions of Western Siberia, so different
from those of the east. Here, indeed, were few cultivated
fields; the soil was poor, at least at the surface, but in its
bowels lay hid quantities of iron, copper, platina, and gold.
There were, too, plenty of bnsy factories, but very few
farms. How can hands be found to cultivate the land, sow
the seed, and reap the harvest, when it pays better to bur-
row beneath the earth? The pickax is everywhere at work;
the spade nowhere.
However, Nadia's thoughts sometimes left the provinces
of Lake Baikal and returned to her present situation. Her
father's image faded away and was replaced by that of her
generous companion as he first appeared on the Wladimir
railroad. She recalled his attentions during that journey,
his arrival at the police station, the hearty simplicity with
which he had called her sister, his kindness to her in the
descent of the Volga, and then all that he did for her on
that terrible night of the storm in the Urals, when he
saved her life at the peril of his own.
122 MICHAEL STROQOFF.
Thus Nadia thought of Michael. She thauked God
for having given her such a gallant protector, a friend so
generous and wise. She knew that she was safe with him,
under his protection. No brother could have done more
than he. All obstacles seemed cleared away; the perform-
ance of her journey was but a matter of time.
Michael remained buried in thought. He also thanked
God for having brought about his meeting with Nadia,
which at the same time enabled him to do a good action
and afforded him additional means for concealing his true
character. He delighted in the young girl's calm intre-
pidity. Was she not indeed his sister? His feeling toward
his beautiful and brave companion was rather respect than
affection. He felt that hers was one of those pure and rare
hearts which are held by all in high esteem.
However, Michael's dangers were now beginning, since
he had reached Siberian ground. If the reporters were
not mistaken, if Ivan Ogareff had really passed the fron-
tier, all his actions must be made with extreme caution.
Things were now altered. Tartar spies swarmed in the
Siberian provinces. His incognito once discovered, his
character as courier of the czar known, there was an end of
his journey and probably of his life. Michael felt now
more than ever the weight of his responsibility.
While such were the thoughts of those occupying the
first carriage, what was happening in the second? Nothing
out of the way. Alcide spoke in sentences; Blount replied
by monosyllables. Each looked at everything in his own
light and made notes of such incidents as occurred- on the
journey — few and but slightly varied — while they crossed
the provinces of Western Siberia.
At each relay the reporters descended from their carriage
and found themselves with Michael. Except when meals
were to be taken at the post-houses, Nadia did not leave
the tarantass. When obliged to breakfast or dine she sat
PROVOCATION. 123
at table, but was always very reserved and seldom joined
in conversation.
Alcide, without going beyond the limits of strict pro-
priety, showed that he was greatly struck by the young
girl. lie admired the silent energy which she showed in
bearing all the fatigues of so long and difficult a journey.
The forced stoppages were anything but agreeable to
Michael, so he hastened the departure at each relay
roused the innkeepers, urged on the iemschiks, and ex
pedited the harnessing of the tarantass. Then the hurried
meal over — always much too hurried to agree with Blount,
who was a methodical eater — they started, and were driven
as eagles, for they paid like princes and, as Alcide said, in
" Russian eagles."
It need scarcely be said that Blount did not trouble him-
self about the girl at table. That gentleman was not in
the habit of doing two things at once. She was also one
of the few subjects of conversation which he did not care
to discuss with his companion.
Alcide asked him on one occasion how old he thought
the girl.
"What girl?" he replied quite seriously, half-shutting
his eyes.
"Why, Nicholas KorpanofFs sistct."
" Is she his sister?"
" No; his grandmother!" replied Alcide, angry at his
indifference. " What age should you consider her?"
" Had I been present at her birth I might have known,"
replied Blount curtly.
The country they were then crossing was almost a desert.
The weather was fine, the sky partly clouded, the tempera-
ture more supportable. Had the carriages only possessed
springs, the travelers would have had nothing to complain
of in the journey. They were traveling at the same rate
as post-berlins, and that is saying something for their
speed.
1-4 MICHAEL STROGOFF.
Bui very few of the Siberian peasants were to be seen in
the fields. These peasants are remarkable for their pale,
grave laces, which a celebrated traveler has compared to
those of the Castilians, without the haughtiness of the
latter. Here and there some villages already deserted
indicated the approach of the Tartar hordes. The in-
habitants, having driven off their flocks of sheep, thei*
camels, and their horses, were taking refuge in the plains
of the north. Some tribes of the wandering Kirgis who
remained faithful had transported their tents beyond the
Irtish and the Obi to escape the depredations of the
invaders.
Happily, post-traveling was as yet uninterrupted, and
telegraphic communication could still be effected between
places connected with the wire. At each relay horses
were to be had on the usual conditions. At each tele-
graphic station the clerks, seated at their desks, transmitted
messages delivered to them, delaying for State dispatches
alone.
Thus far, then, Michael's journey had been accomplished
satisfactorily. The courier of the czar had in no way
been impeded, and if he could only get on to Krasnoiarsk,
which was the furthest point attained by Feofar-Khan's
Tartars, he knew that he could arrive at Irkutsk before
them. The day after the two carriages had left Ekateren-
burg they reached the small town of Toulouguisk at
seven o'clock in the morning, having covered two hundred
and twenty versts, no event worthy of mention having
occurred.
Half an hour was then devoted to dinner. This over,
the travelers once more started at a rate which the
promise of a certain number of kopecks could alone ex-
plain. The same evening, the 22d of July, they arrived
at Tioumen, sixty versts further.
Tioumen, whose population is usually ten thousand
PROVOCATION. 125
inhabitants, then contained double that number. This,
the first industrial town established by the Russians in
Siberia, in which may be seen a fine metal-refining factory
and a bell foundry, had never before presented such an
animated appearance. The correspondents immediately
went off after news. That brought by Siberian fugitives
from the seat of war was far from reassuring. They said,
among other things, that Feofar-Khan's army was rap-
idly approaching the valley of the Ishim, and they con-
firmed the report that the Tartar chief was soon to be
joined by Colonel Ogareff, if he had not been so already.
Hence the conclusion naturally arrived at was that
operations would be pushed in Eastern Siberia with the
greatest activity.
On the other hand, it had been necessary to summon
the Russian troops from the European provinces of Russia
chiefly, but being still at some distance, they could not
oppose the invasion. However, the Cossacks of the
government of Tobolsk had been advancing by forced
marches toward Tomsk, in the hope of cutting off the
Tartar columns.
At eight o'clock in the evening, seventy-five versts
more having been accomplished by the two carriages, they
arrived at Yaloutorowsk.
Horses were rapidly changed, and on leaving the town
the river Tobol was passed in a ferryboat. Its peaceful
waters rendered this operation easy. It would, however,
have to be repeated more than once in the journey, and
probably under less favorable conditions.
At midnight, fifty-five versts further, the town of Novo-
Saimsk was reached, and the travelers now left behind
them the country broken by tree-covered hills, the last
remains of the Ural Mountains.
Here began the regular Siberian steppe which extends
to the neighborhood of Krasnoiarsk. It is a boundless
126 MICHAEL STROGOFF.
plain, a tosI grassy desert; earth and sky here form a
circle as distinct as that traced by a sweep of the com-
passes. The steppe presents nothing to attract notice but
the long line of the telegraph posts, their wires vibrating
in the breeze like the strings of a harp. The road could
be distinguished from the rest of the plain only by the
clouds of fine dust which rose under the wheels of the
tarantass. Had it not been for this white ribbon, which
stretched away as far as the eye could reach, the travelers
might have thought themselves in a desert.
Michael and his companions again pressed rapidly for-
ward across the steppe. The horses, urged on by the
iemschik, seemed to fly over the ground, for there was not
the slightest obstacle to impede them. The tarantass was
going straight for Ishim, where the two correspondents in-
tended to stop if nothing happened to make them alter
their plans.
Nearly two hundred versts separated Novo-Saimsk from
the town of Ishim, and before eight o'clock the next even-
ing the distance could and should be accomplished if no
time was lost. In the opinion of the iemschiks, should the
travelers not be great lords or high functionaries, they were
worthy of being so, if it was only for their generosity in the
matter of "na vodkou."
On the afternoon of the next day, the 23d of July, the
two carriages were not more than thirty versts from Ishim.
Suddenly Michael caught sight of a carriage — scarcely
visible among the clouds of dust — preceding them along
the road. As his horses were evidently less fatigued than
those of the other traveler, he would not be long in over-
taking it. This was neither a tarantass nor a telga, but a
post-berlin, all over dust, and looking as if it had made a
long journey. The postilion was thrashing his horses with
all his might, and only kept them at a gallop by dint of
abuse and blows. The berlin had certainly not passed
through Novo-Saimsk, and could only have struck the
, PROVOCATION. 127
Irkutsk road by some less frequented route across the
steppe.
Our travelers' first thought on seeing this berlin was to
get in front of it and arrive first at the relay, so as to make
sure of fresh horses. They said a word to their iemschiks,
who soon brought them up with the berlin.
Michael Strogoff came up first.
As he passed a head was thrust out of the window of the
berlin.
He had not time to see what it was like, but as he dashed
by he distinctly heard this word, uttered in an imperious
tone:
"Stop!"
But they did not stop; on the contrary, the berlin was
soon distanced by the two tarantasses.
It now became a regular race, for the horses of the berlin
— no doubt excited by the sight and pace of the others —
recovered their strength and kept up for some minutes.
The three carriages were hidden in a cloud of dust. From
this cloud issued the cracking of whips mingled with ex-
cited shouts and exclamations of anger.
Nevertheless the advantage remained with Michael and
his companions, which might be very important to them if
the relay was poorly provided with horses. Two carriages
were perhaps more than the postmaster could provide for,
at least in a short space of time.
Half an hour after the berlin was left far behind, look-
ing only a speck on the horizon of the steppe.
It was eight o'clock in the evening when the two car-
riages arrived at the post-house in I shim.
The news was worse and worse with regard to the in-
vasion.
The town itself was menaced by the Tartar vanguard,
and two days before the authorities had been obliged to
retreat to Tobolsk. There was not an officer nor a soldier
left in Ichim.
!28 MICHAEL STROGOFF.
On arriving at the relay, Michael Strogoff immediately
asked for horses.
He had been fortunate in -distancing the berlin.
Only three horses wereiin a fit state to be immediately
harnessed. The others had just come in worn oukirom a
long stage.
The postmaster gave the order to put to.
As the two correspondents intended to stop at Ishim
they had not to trouble themselves to find means of trans-
port, and therefore had their carriage put away.
In ten minutes Michael was told that his tarantass was
ready to start.
" Good," said he.
Then turning to the two reporters:
" Well, gentlemen, since you remain at Ishim, the time
is come for us to separate."
" What, Mr. Korpanolf," said Alcide Jolivet, " shall you
not stop even for an hour at Ishim ?"
" No, sir; and I also wish to leave the post-house before
the arrival of the berlin which we distanced."
" Are you afraid that the traveler will dispute the horses
with you?"
" I particularly wish to avoid any difficulty."
"Then, Mr. Korpanoff," said Jolivet, "it only remains
for us to thank you once more for the service you rendered
us and for the pleasure we have had in traveling in your
company."
" It is possible that we shall meet you again in a few
days at Omsk," added Blount.
" It is possible," answered Michael, " since I am going
straight there."
" Well, I wish you a safe journey, Mr. Korpanoff," said
Alcide, " and Heaven preserve you from telgas."
The two reporters held out their hands to Michael with
the intention of cordially shaking his, when the sound of a
carriage was heard outside,
PROVOCATION. 129
Almost immediately the door was flung open and a man
appeared.
It was the traveler of the berlin, a military-looking man,
apparently about forty years of age, tall, robust in figure,
broad-shouldered, with a strongly set head and thick mus-
taches meeting red whiskers. He wore a plain uniform.
A cavalry saber hung at his side and in his hand he held a
short-handled whip.
" Horses," he demanded, with the air of a man accus-
tomed to command.
" I have no more disposable horses," answered the post-
master, bowing.
"1 must have some this moment."
"It is impossible."
" What are those horses which have just been harnessed
to the tarantass I saw at the door?"
" They belong to this traveler," answered the post-
master, pointing to Michael Strogoff.
" Take them out!" said the traveler in- a tone which ad-
mitted of no reply*
Michael then advanced.
" These horses are engaged by me," he said.
" What does that matter? I must have them. Come,
be quick. I have no time to lose."
" I have no time to lose, either," replied Michael, en-
deavoring to be calm, but restraining himself with diffi-
culty.
Nadia was near him, calm also, but secretly uneasy at a
scene which it would have been better to avoid.
" Enough!" said the traveler.
Then, going up to the postmaster:
" Let the horses be taken out of the tarantass and put
into my berlin," he exclaimed with a threatening gesture.
The postmaster, much embarrassed, did not know whom
to obey, .and looked at Michael, who evidently had the
right to resist the unjust demands of the traveler.
130 MICHAEL STROQOFF.
Michael hesitated an instant. He did not wish to make
use of his podorojna, which would have drawn attention
to hi in, and he was most unwilling also, by giving up his
horses, to delay his journey, and yet it was important not
to engage in a struggle which might compromise his mission.
The two reporters looked at him, ready to support him
should he appeal to them.
" My horses will remain in my carriage," said Michael,
but without raising his tone more than would be suitable
for a plain Irkutsk merchant.
The traveler advanced toward Michael and laid his hand
heavily on his shoulder.
"Is it so?" he said in a rough voice. "You will not
give up your horses to me?"
" No," answered Michael.
" Very well; then they shall belong to whichever of us
is able to start. Defend yourself, for I shall not spare
you!"
So saying, the traveler drew his saber from its sheath,
and Nadia threw herself before Michael.
Blount and Alcide Jolivet advanced toward him.
"I shall not fight," said Michael, quietly folding his
arms across his chest.
"You will not fight?"
"No."
"Not even after this?" exclaimed the traveler. And
before any one could prevent him he struck Michael's
shoulder with the handle of the whip. At this insult
Michael turned deadly pale. His hands moved convul-
sively, as if he would have knocked the brute down, but by
a tremendous effort he mastered himself. A duel! it was
more than a delay; it was perhaps the failure of his mission.
It would be better to lose some hours. Yes; but to swallow
this affront!
' ' Will you fight now, coward?" repeated the traveler,
adding coarseness to brutality.
PROVOCATION. 131
" No," answered Michael, without moving, but looking
the other straight in the face.
" The horses this moment," said the man, and left the
room.
The postmaster followed him, after shrugging his
shoulders and bestowing on Michael a glance of anything
but approbation.
The effect produced on the reporters by this incident was
not to Michael's advantage. Their discomfiture was visible.
How could this strong young man allow himself to be
struck like that and not demand satisfaction for such an
insult? They contented themselves with bowing to him
and retired, Jolivet remarking to Harry Blount:
" I could not have believed that of a man who is so skill-
ful in finishing up Ural Mountain bears. Is it the case
that a man can be courageous at one time and a coward at
another? It is quite incomprehensible."
A moment afterward the noise of wheels and the crack-
ing of a whip showed that the berlin, drawn by the tar-
antass' horses, was driving rapidly away from the post-house.
Nadia, unmoved, and Michael, still quivering, remained
alone in the room.
The courier of the czar, his arms crossed over his chest,
was seated motionless as a statue. However, a color, which
could not have been the blush of shame, had replaced the
paleness on his manly countenance.
Nadia did not doubt that powerful reasons alone could
have allowed him to suffer so great a humiliation from such
a man.
Then going up to him as he had come to her in the
police station at Nijni-Novgorod:
" Your hand, brother," said she.
And at the same time her hand, with an almost maternal
gesture, wiped away a tear which sprang to her compan-
ion's eye.
132 MICUAEL STROGOFF.
CHAPTER XIII.
DUTY BEFORE EVERYTHING.
Nadia, with the clear perception of a right-minded
woman, guessed that some secret motive directed all Michael
StrogofFs actions; that he, for a reason unknown to her,
did not belong to himself; that he had not the power of
doing what he desired; and that in this instance especially
he had heroically sacrificed to duty even his resentment at
the gross injury he had received.
Nadia, therefore, asked no explanation from Michael.
Had not the hand which she had extended to him already
replied to all that he might have been able to tell her?
Michael remained silent all the evening. The postmaster
not being able to supply them with fresh horses until the
next morning, a whole night must be passed at the house.
Nadia could profit by it to take some rest, and a room was
therefore prepared for her.
The young girl would no doubt have preferred not to
leave her companion, but she felt that he would rather be
alone and she made ready to go to her room.
Just as she was about to retire she could not refrain from
going up to Michael to say good-night.
" Brother/' she whispered.
But he checked her with a gesture. The gfcl sighed and
left the room.
Michael Strogoff did not lie down. He could not have
slept even for an hour. The place on which he had been
struck by the brutal traveler felt like a burn.
D UTY BEFORE EVER YTIIING. 133
"For my country and the father," he muttered as he
ended his evening prayer.
He especially felt a great wish to know who was the man
who had struck him, whence he came, and where he was
going. As to his face, the features of it were so deeply
engraven on his memory that he had no fear of ever for-
getting them.
Michael at last asked for the postmaster. The latter, a
Siberian of the old type, came directly, and looking rather
contemptuously at the young man, waited to be questioned.
"You belong to the country?" asked Michael.
"Yes."
" Do you know that man who took my horses?"
" No."
" Had you never seen him before?"
" Never."
" Who do you think he was?"
"A man who knows how to make himself obeyed."
Michael fixed his piercing gaze upon the Siberian, but
the other did not quail before it.
" Do you dare to judge me?" exclaimed Michael.
" Yes," answered the Siberian, " for there are some
things that even a plain merchant cannot receive without
returning."
" Blows?"
" Blows, young man. I am of an age and strength to
tell you so."
Michael went up to the postmaster and laid his two pow-
erful hands on his shoulders.
Then in a peculiarly calm tone :
"Be off, my friend," said he; "be off! I could kill
you."
The postmaster understood this time.
" I like him better for that," he muttered as he retired
without adding another word.
134 MICHAEL STROGOFF.
At eight o'clock the next morning, the 24th of July,
three strong horses were harnessed to the tarantass.
Michael and Nadia took their places, and Ishim, with its
disagreeable remembrances, was soon left far behind.
At the different relays at which they stopped during the
lay Strogoff ascertained that the berlin still preceded them
m the road to Irkutsk, and that the traveler, as hurried as
they were, never lost a minute in pursuing his way across
the steppe.
At four o'clock in the evening they reached Abatskaia,
seventy-five versts further on, where the Ishim, one of the
principal affluents of the Irtish, had to be crossed.
This passage was rather more difficult than that of the
Tobol. Indeed, the current of the Ichim was very rapid
just at that place. During the Siberian winter, the rivers
being all frozen to a thickness of several feet, they are
easily practicable, and the traveler even crosses them with-
out being aware of the fact, for their beds have disap-
peared under the snowy sheet spread uniformly over the
steppe; but in summer the difficulties of crossing are some-
times great.
In fact, two hours were taken up in making the passage
of the Ishim, which much exasperated Michael, especially
as the boatmen gave them alarming news of the Tartar
invasion.
This is what they said:
Some of Feofar-Khan's scouts had already appeared on
both banks of the lower Ishim, in the southern parts of
the government of Tobolsk. Omsk was threatened. They
spoke of an engagement which had taken place between
the Siberian and Tartar troops on the frontier of the great
Kirghese horde — an engagement which had not been to
the advantage of the Russians, who were somewhat weak
in numbers in that direction. The troops had retreated
thence, and in consequence there had been a general emi-
DUTY BEFORE EVERYTHING. 135
gration of all the peasants of the province. The boatmen
spoke of horrible atrocities committed by the invaders —
pillage, theft, incendiarism, murder. Such was the system
of Tartar warfare.
The people fled on all sides before Michael Feofar-Khan.
Michael StrogofFs great fear was lest in the depopulation
of the towns and hamlets he should be unable to obtain the
means of transport. He was therefore extremely anxious
to reach Omsk. Perhaps on leaving this town they would
get the start of the Tartar scouts, who were coming down
the valley of the Irtish, and would find the road open to
Irkutsk.
Just at the place where the tarantass crossed the river
ended what is called, in military language, the "Ishim
chain " — a chain of towers, or little wooden forts, extend-
ing from the southern frontier of Siberia for a distance of
nearly four hundred versts. Formerly these forts were
occupied by detachments of Cossacks, and they protected
the country against the Kirghese as well as against the
Tartars. But since the Muscovite Government had be-
lieved these hordes reduced to absolute submission they
had been abandoned, and now could not be used, just at
the time when they would have been most useful. Many
of these forts had been reduced to ashes; and the boatmen
even pointed out the smoke to Michael, rising in the
southern horizon, and showing the approach of the Tartar
advance-guard.
As soon as the ferryboat landed the tarantass and its oc-
cupants on the right bank of the Ishim, the journey across
the steppe was resumed with all possible speed.
It was seven in the evening. The sky was cloudy.
Every now and then a shower of rain fell, which laid the
dust and much improved the roads. Michael Strogoff had
remained very silent from the time they left Ishim. He
was, however, always attentive to Nadia, helping her to
136 MICHAEL STUOOOPF.
bear the fatigue of this long journey without break or rest;
but the girl never complained. She longed to give wings
to the horses. Something told her that her companion
was even more anxious than herself to reach Irkutsk; and
how many versts were still between!
It also occurred to her that if Omsk was entered by the
Tartars, Michael's mother, who lived there, would be in
danger, about which her son would be very uneasy, and
that this was sufficient to explain his impatience to get to
her.
Nadia at last spoke to him of old Marfa, and of how un-
protected she would be in the midst of all these events.
" Have you received any news of your mother since the
beginning of the invasion?" she asked,
" None, Nadia. The last letter my mother wrote to me
contained good news. Marfa is a brave and energetic
Siberian woman. Notwithstanding her age, she has pre-
served all her moral strength. She knows how to suffer."
" I shall see her, brother," said Nadia quickly. " Since
you give me the name of sister, I am Marfa's daughter."
And as Michael did not answer she added:
" Perhaps your mother has been able to leave Omsk?"
"It is possible, Nadia," replied Michael, "and I hope
she may have reached Tobolsk. Marfa hates the Tartars.
She knows the steppe, and would have no fear in just taking
her staff and going down the banks of the Irtish. There is
not a spot in all the province unknown to her. Many times
has she traveled all over the country with my father, and
many times I myself, when a mere child, have accompanied
them in their journeys across the Siberian .desert. Yes,
Nadia, I trust that my mother has left Omsk."
" And when shall you see her?"
"I shall see her — on my return."
"If, however, your mother is still at Omsk, you will be
able to spare an hour to go to her?"
DUTY BEFORE EVER YTHING. 137
"I shall not go and see her."
"Yon will not see her?"
"No, Nadia," answered Michael, his chest heaving as he
felt that he conld not go on replying to the girl's
questions.
"Yon say no! Why, brother, if your mother is still at
Omsk, for what reason could you refuse to see her?"
" For what reason, Nadia? You ask me for what
reason ?" exclaimed Michael in so changed a voice that the
young girl started. "For the same reason as that
which made me patient even to cowardice with the villain
who "
lie could not finish his sentence.
" Calm yourself, brother," said Nadia in a gentle voice,
" I only know one thing, or rather I do not know it — I
feel it. It is that all your conduct is now directed by the
sentiment of a duty more sacred — if there can be one —
than that which unites the son to the mother."
Nadia was silent, and from that moment avoided every
subject which in any way touched on Michael's peculiar
situation. He had a secret motive which she must respect.
She respected it.
The next day, the 25th of July, at three o'clock in the
morning, the tarantass arrived at the post-house in Tiou-
kalmsk, having accomplished a distance of one hundred
and twenty versts since it had crossed the Ishim.
They rapidly changed horses. Here, however, for the
first time, the iemschik made difficulties about starting,
declaring that detachments of Tartars were roving across
the steppe, and that travelers, horses, and carriages would
be a fine prize for such robbers.
Only by dint of a large bribe could Michael get over the
unwillingness of the iemschik, for in this instance, as in
many others, he did not wish to show his podorojna. The
Jast ukase, having been transmitted by telegraph, was
138 MICHAEL STROQOFF.
known in the Siberian provinces; and a Russian specially
exempted from obeying these orders would certainly have
drawn public attention to himself — a thing above all to be
avoided by the czar's courier. As to the iemschik's
hesitation, either the rascal traded on the traveler's
impatience or he really had good reason to fear some mis-
fortune.
However, at last the tarantass started, and made such
good way that by three in the afternoon it had reached
Koulatsinskoe, eighty versts further on. An hour after
this it was on the banks of the Irtish. Omsk was now
only twenty versts distant.
The Irtish is a large river and one of the principal of
those which flow toward the north of Asia. Rising in the
Atai Mountains, it flows from the southeast to the north-
west and empties itself into the Obi after a course of nearly
seven thousand versts.
At this time of year, when all the rivers of the Siberian
basin are much swollen, the waters of the Irtish were very
high. In consequence the current was changed to a
regular torrent, rendering the passage difficult enough. A
swimmer could not have crossed, however powerful a one he
might be, and even in a ferryboat there would be some
danger.
But Michael and Nadia, determined to brave all perils,
whatever they might be, did not dream of shrinking from
this one.
Michael proposed to his young companion that he
should cross first, embarking in the ferryboat with the
tarantass and horses, as he feared that the weight of
this load would render it less safe. After landing the
carriage on the opposite bank he would return and fetch
Nadia.
The girl refused. It would be the delay of an hour, and
she would not, for her safety alone, be the cause of it.
D TJTY BEFORE EVER YTHWG. 139
The embarkation was made not without difficulty, for the
banks were partly flooded and the boat could not get in
near enough.
However, after half an hour's exertion the boatmen
got the tarantass and the three horses on board. Michael,
Nadia, and the iemschik embarked also, and they shoved
off.
For a few minutes all went well. A little way up the
river the current was broken by a long point projecting
from the bank and forming an eddy easily crossed by the
boat. The two boatmen propelled their barge with long
poles, which they handled cleverly; but as they gained
the middle of the stream it grew deeper and deeper, until
at last they could only just reach the bottom. The ends
of the poles were only a foot above the water, which
rendered their use difficult and insufficient. Michael and
Nadia, seated in the stern of the boat, and always in
dread of a delay, watched the boatmen with some uneasi-
ness.
" Look out!" cried one of them to his comrade.
The shout was occasioned by the new direction the boat
was rapidly taking. It had got into the direct current and
was being swept down the river. By diligent use of the
poles, putting the ends in a series of notches cut below the
gunwale, the boatmen managed to keep their craft against
the stream, and slowly urged it in a slanting direction
toward the right bank.
They calculated on reaching it some five or six versts
below the landing-place; but, after all, that would no
matter so long as men and beasts could disembark without
accident. The two stout boatmen, stimulated, moreover,
by the promise of double fare, did not doubt of succeeding
in this difficult passage of the Irtish.
But they reckoned without an incident which they
were powerless to prevent, and neither their zeal nor
140 MICHAEL STROGOFF.
their skillf ulness could, under the circumstances, have done
more.
The boat was in the middle of the current, at nearly equal
distances from either shore, and being carried down at the
rate of two versts an hour, when Michael, springing to his
feet, bent his gaze up the river.
Several boats, aided by oars as well as by the current,
were coming swiftly down upon them.
Michael's brow contracted and an exclamation escaped
him.
" What is the matter?" asked the girl.
But before Michael had time to reply one of the boatmen
exclaimed in an accent of terror:
" The Tartars! the Tartars!"
There were indeed boats full of soldiers, and in a few
minutes they must reach the ferryboat, it being too heavily
laden to escape from them.
The terrified boatmen uttered exclamations of despair
and dropped their poles.
"Courage, my friends!" cried Michael; "courage!
Fifty roubles for you if we reach the right bank before the
boats overtake us."
Incited by these words, the boatmen again worked
manfully, but it soon became evident that they could not
escape the Tartars.
It was scarcely probable that they would pass without
attacking them. On the contrary, there was everything to
be feared from robbers such as these.
" Do not be afraid, Nadia," said Michael, "but be ready
for anything."
"1 am ready," replied JSTaaia.
" Even to throw yourself into the water wnen 1 tell
you?"
" Whenever you tell me."
"Have confidence in me, Nadia."
DU1T BEFORE EVERYTHING. 141
"I have, indeed!"
The Tartar boats were now only a hundred feet distant.
They carried a detachment of Bokharian soldiers, on their
way to reconnoiter round Omsk.
The ferryboat was still two lengths from the shore.
The boatmen redoubled their efforts. Michael himself
seized a pole and wielded it with superhuman strength. If
he could land the tarantass and horses and dash off with
them, there was some chance of escaping the Tartars, who
were not mounted.
But all their efforts were in vain.
" Saryn na kitchou!" shouted the soldiers from the
first boat.
Michael recognized the Tartar war-cry, which is usually
answered by lying flat on the ground.
As neither he nor the boatmen obeyed this injunction
a volley was let fly among them, and two of the horses
were mortally wounded.
At the next moment a violent blow was felt. The boats
had run into the ferryboat.
" Come, Nadia!" cried Michael, ready to jump over-
board.
The girl was about to follow him, when a blow from a
lance struck him and he was thrown in the water. The
current swept him away, his hand raised for an instant
above the waves, and then he disappeared.
Nadia uttered a cry, but before she had time to throw
herself after him she was seized and dragged into one of
the boats.
in a few minutes the boatmen were killed, the ferry-
boat left to drift away, while the Tartars continued to
descend the Irtish.
142 MICHAEL STROGOFF.
CHAPTER XIV.
MOTHER AND SON.
Omsk is the official capital of Western Siberia. It is not
the most important city of the government of that name,
for Tomsk has more inhabitants and is larger. But it is
at Omsk that the governor-general of this the first half of
Asiatic Russia resides.
Omsk, properly so called, is composed of two distinct
towns: one which is exclusively inhabited by the authori-
ties and officials; the other more especially devoted to the
Siberian merchants, although, indeed, for the matter of
that, the town is of small commercial importance.
This city has about thirteen thousand inhabitants. It is
defended by walls, flanked by bastions, but these fortifica-
tions are merely of earth and could afford only insufficient
protection. The Tartars, who were well aware of this
fact, consequently tried at this period to carry it by main
force, and in this they succeeded after an investment of a
few days.
The garrison of Omsk, reduced to two thousand men,
resisted valiantly; but overwhelmed by the troops of the
emir, driven back little by little from the mercantile por-
tion of the place, they were compelled to take refuge in the
upper town.
It was there that the governor-general, his officers and
soldiers had intrenched themselves. After having crenel-
ated the houses and churches they had made the upper
quarter Of Omsk a kind of citadel, and hitherto they held
MOTHER AIvD SON. 143
out well in this species of improvised "kreml," but with-
out much hope of the promised succor. In fact, the Tar-
tar troops, who were descending the course of the Irtish,
received every day fresh reinforcements, and, what was
more serious, they were then led by an officer, a traitor to
his country, but a man of much note and of an audacity
equal to any emergency
This man was Colonel Ivan Ogareff.
Ivan Ogareff, teirible as any of the mcst savage Tartar
chieftains, was an educated soldier. Possessing on his
mother's side, who was of Asiatic origin, some Mongolian
blood, he delighted in deceptive strategy and the planning
of ambuscades, stopping short of nothing when he desired
to fathom some secret or to set some trap. Deceitful by
nature, he willingly had recourse to the vilest trickery;
lying when occasion demanded, excelling in the adoption
of all disguises and in every species of deception. Further,
he was cruel and had even acted as an executioner. Feofar-
Khan possessed in him a lieutenant well capable of second-
ing his designs in this savage war.
When Michael Strogoff arrived on the banks of the
Irtish Ivan Ogareff was already master of Omsk, and was
pressing the siege of the upper quarter of the town all the
more eagerly because he must hasten to repair to Tomsk,
where the main body of the Tartar army had just been
concentrated.
Tomsk, in fact, had been taken by Feofar-Khan some
days previously, and it was thence that the invaders, mas-
ters of Central Siberia, were to march upon Irkutsk.
Irkutsk was the real object of Ivan Ogareff.
The plan of the traitor was to ingratiate himself with
the grand duke under a false name, to gain his confidence,
and in course of time to deliver into Tartar hands the town
and the grand duke himself.
With such a town and such a hostage, all Asiatic Siberia
must necessarily fall into the hands of the invaders,
144 MICHAEL STROGOFF.
Now, it was well known that the czar was acquainted
with this conspiracy, and it was for the purpose of baffling
it that Michael Strogoff had been intrusted with the im-
portant missive of which he was the bearer. Hence, there-
fore, the very stringent instructions which had been given
to the young courier to pass incognito through the invaded
district.
This mission he had faithfully performed up to this
moment, but now could he carry it to a successful com-
pletion?
The blow which had struck Michael Strogoff was not
mortal. By swimming in a manner by which he had
effectually concealed himself he had reached the right
bank, where he fell exhausted among the bushes.
"When he recovered his senses he found himself in the
cabin of a mujik, who had picked him up and cared for
him and to whom he owed his life. For how long a time
had he been the guest of this brave Siberian? He could
not guess. But when he opened his eyes he saw the hand-
some bearded face bending over him and regarding him
with pitying eyes. He was about to ask where he was,
when the mujik, anticipating him, said:
" Do not speak, little father; do not speak! Thou art
still too weak. I will tell thee where thou art and every-
thing that has passed since I brought thee to my cabin."
And the mujik related to Michael Strogoff the different
incidents of the struggle which he had witnessed — the
attack upon the ferryboat by the Tartar boats, the pillage
of the tarantass, and the massacre of the boatmen.
But Michael Strogoff listened no longer, and slipping
his hand under his garment he felt the imperial letter still
secured in his breast.
He breathed a sigh of relief. But that was not all.
"A young girl accompanied me," said he.
•; They have not killed her," replied the mujik, antici*
MOTHER AND SON. 145
pitting the anxiety which he read in the eyes of his guest.
" They have carried her off in their boat and have con-
tinued their descent of the Irtish. It is only one prisoner
more to join so many others which they are taking to
Tomsk!"
Michael Strogoff was unable to reply. He pressed his
hand upon his heart to restrain its beating.
But notwithstanding these many trials the sentiment
of duty mastered his whole soul.
" Where am I?" asked he.
"Upon the right bank of the Irtish, only five versts
from Omsk/' replied the mujik.
" What wound can I have received which could have
thus prostrated me? It was not a gunshot wound?"
"No; a lance-thrust in the head, now healing,"
replied the mujik. " After a few days' rest, little father,
thou wilt be able to proceed. Thou didst fall into the
river; but the Tartars neither touched nor searched thee
and thy purse is still in thy pocket."
Michael Strogoff gripped the mujik's hand. Then,
recovering himself with a sudden effort:
" Friend," said he, " how long have I been in thy hut?"
"Three days."
"Three days lost!"
" Three days hast thou lain unconscious."
"Hast thou a horse to sell me?"
"Thou wishest to go?"
"At once."
" I have neither horse nor carriage, little father. Where
the Tartar has passed there remains nothing!"
"Well, I will go on foot to Omsk to find a horse."
" A few more hours of rest, and thou wilt be in a better
condition to pursue thy journey."
"Not an hour!"
" Come, now," replied the mujik, recognizing the fact
146 MICHAEL ST11000FF.
that it was useless to struggle against the will of his guest,
"I will guide thee myself. Besides," he added, "the
Russians are still in great force at Omsk, and thou couldst,
perhaps, pass unperceived."
"Friend," replied Michael Strogoff, "Heaven reward
thee for all thou hast done for me!"
" Reward! Only fools expect reward on earth," replied
the mujik.
Michael Strogoff went out of the hut. When he tried to
walk he was seized with such faintness that without the
assistance of the mujik he would have fallen; but the fresh
air quickly revived him. He then felt the wound in his
head, the violence of which his fur cap had lessened. With
the energy which he possessed, he was not a man to suc-
cumb under such a trifle. Before his eyes lay a single goal
— far-distant Irkutsk. He must reach it! But he must
pass through Omsk without stopping there.
" God protect my mother and Nadia!" he murmured.
" I have no longer the right to think of them!"
Michael Strogoff and the mujik soon arrived in the
mercantile quarter of the lower town, and although under
military occupation, they entered it without difficulty. The
surrounding earthwork had been destroyed in many places,
and there were the breaches through which the marauders
who followed the armies of Feofar-Khan had penetrated.
Within Omsk, in its streets and squares, the Tartar
soldiers swarmed like ants, but it was easy to see that a
hand of iron imposed upon them a discipline to which they
were but little accustomed. In fact, they walked nowhere
alone, but in armed groups, for the purpose of defending
themselves against surprise.
In the chief square, transformed into a camp guarded by
many sentries, two thousand Tartars bivouacked. The
horses, picketed but still saddled, were ready to start at
the first order. Omsk could only be a temporary halting-
MOTHER AND SON. 147
place for this Tartar cavalry, which preferred the rich
plains of Eastern Siberia, where the towns were more
wealthy, the country more fertile, and consequently pillage
more profitable.
Above the mercantile town rose the upper quarter,
which Ivan Ogareff, notwithstanding several assaults vigor-
ously made but bravely repelled, had not yet been able to
reduce. Upon its embattled walls floated the national
colors of Russia.
It was not without a legitimate pride that Michael
Strogoff and his guide, vowing fidelity, saluted them.
Michael Strogoff was perfectly acquainted with the town
of Omsk, and he took care to avoid those streets which
were much frequented. This was not from any fear of
being recognized. In the town his old mother only could
have called him by name, but he had sworn not to see her,
and he did not. Besides — and he wished it with his whole
heart — she might have fled into some quiet portion of the
steppe.
The mujik very fortunately knew a postmaster who, if
well paid, would not refuse at his request either to let or to
sell a carriage or horses. There remained the difficulty of
leaving the town, but the breaches in the fortifications
would, of course, facilitate his departure.
The mujik was accordingly conducting his guest straight
to the posting-house, when, in a narrow street, Michael
Strogoff, coming to a sudden stop, sprang behind a jutting
wall.
" What is the matter?" quickly asked the mujik, much
astonished at this sudden movement.
" Silence!" hastily replied Michael Strogoff, with his
finger on his lips.
At this moment a detachment marched from the principal
square into the street which Michael Strogoff and his com-
panion had just been following.
148 MICHAEL STROGOFF.
At the head of the detachment, composed of twenty
■iiK'ii, was an officer dressed in a very simple uniform.
Although he glanced rapidly from one side to the other he
could not have seen Michael Strogoff, owing to his pre-
cipitous retreat.
The detachment went at full trot into the narrow street.
Xeither the officer nor his escort concerned themselves
about the inhabitants. Several unlucky ones had scarcely
time to make way for their passage. There were, there-
fore, a few half -stifled cries, to which thrusts of the lance
gave an instant reply, and the street was immediately
cleared.
When the escort had disappeared, " Who is that
officer?" asked Michael Strogoff, returning toward the
mujik.
And while putting the question his face was pale as
that of a corpse.
"It is Ivan Ogareff," replied the Siberian, but in a deep
voice which breathed hatred.
"He!" cried Michael Strogoff, from whom the word
escaped with an accent of fury which he could not conquer.
He had just recognized in this officer the traveler who
had struck him at the posting-house of Ishim. And
although he had only caught a glimpse of him, it burst
upon his mind at the same time that this traveler was
the old Zingari whose words he had overheard in the
market-place of Xijni-Xovgorod.
Michael Strogoff was not mistaken. The two men
were one and the same. It was under the garb of a
Zingari, mingling with the band of Sangarre, that Ivan
Ogareff had been able to leave the town of Nijni-Nov-
gorod, where he had gone to seek among the numerous
strangers which the fair had gathered from Central Asia
the confidants whom he had associated in the accomplish-
ment of his accursed task. Sangarre and his Zingari,
MOTHER AND SON. 149
veritable paid spies, where absolutely devoted to him. It
was he who during the night on the fair-ground had
uttered that singular sentence, of which Michael Strogoff
could not understand the sense; it was he who was
voyaging on board the Caucasus with the whole of the
Bohemian band; it was he who by this other route from
Kasan to Ishim, across the Urals, had reached Omsk,
where now he held supreme authority.
Ivan Ogareff had been barely three days at Omsk, and
had it not been for their fatal meeting at Ishim and for
the event which had detained him three days on the banks
of the Irtish, Michael Strogoff would have evidently beaten
him on the way to Irkutsk.
And who knows how many misfortunes would have
been avoided in the future! In any case — and now more
than ever — Michael Strogoff must avoid Ivan Ogareff and
contrive not to be seen. When the moment of encounter-
ing him face to face should arrive he knew how to meet it,
even should the traitor be master of the whole of Siberia.
The mujik and Michael resumed their way and arrived
at the posting-house. To leave Omsk by one of the
breaches would not be difficult after nightfall. As for
purchasing a carriage to replace the tarantass, that was
impossible. There were none to be let or sold. But what
want had Michael Strogoff now for a carriage? Was he
not alone, alas? A horse would suffice him; and, very
fortunately, a horse could be had. It was an animal of
mettle, capable of enduring much fatigue, and Michael
Strogoff, accomplished horseman as he was, could make
good use of it.
The horse cost a high price, and a few moments later
Michael was ready to start.
It was then four o'clock in the afternoon.
Michael Strogoff, compelled to wait till nightfall in
order to pass the fortifications, but not desiring to show
150 MICHAEL STROGOFF
himself in the streets of Omsk, remained in the posting-
house and there partook of food.
There was a great crowd in the public room, it being
the resort of numbers of the anxious inhabitants, who at
this eventful period collected there to obtain news. They
were talking of the expected arrival of a corps of Musco-
vite troops, not at Omsk, but at Tomsk — a corps intended
to recapture that town from the Tartars of Feofar-Khan.
Michael Strogoff lent an attentive ear to all that was
said, but took no part in the conversation.
Suddenly a cry made him tremble, a cry which pene-
trated to the depths of his soul, and these two words, so to
speak, rushed into his ear:
"My son!"
His mother, the old woman Marfa, was before him!
Trembling, she smiled npon him. She stretched forth her
arms to him.
Michael Strogoff arose. He was about to throw him-
self
The thought of duty, the serious danger for his mother
and himself in this unfortunate meeting, suddenly stopped
him, and such was his command over himself that not a
muscle of his face moved.
There were twenty people in the public room. Among
them were, perhaps, spies, and was it not known in the
town that the son of Marfa Strogoff belonged to the corps
of the couriers of the czar?
Michael Strogoff did not move.
" Michael!" cried his mother.
" Who are you, my good lady?" Michael Strogoff
stammered, unable to speak in his usual firm tone.
" Who am I, thou askest! Dost thou no longer know
thy mother?"
" You are mistaken," coldly replied Michael Strogoff.
"A resemblance deceives you."
MOTH MR AND SON. 151
The old Marfa went up to him, and looking straight
into his eyes said:
" Thou art not the son of Peter and Marfa Strogoff ?"
Michael Strogoif would have given his life to have locked
his mother in his arms; but if he yielded it was all over
with him, with her, with his mission, with his oath!
Completely master of himself, he closed his eyes, in order
not to see the inexpressible anguish which agitated the
revered countenance of his mother. He drew back his
hands, in order not to touch those trembling hands which
sought him.
" I do not know in truth what it is you say, my good
woman," he replied, stepping back.
" Michael!" again cried his aged mother.
" My name is not Michael. I never was your son! I
am Nicholas KorpanofT, a merchant at Irkutsk "
And suddenly he left the public room, while for the last
time the words reechoed:
" My son! my son!"
Michael Strogoff, by a desperate effort, had gone. He
did not see his old mother, who had fallen back almost
inanimate upon a bench. But when the postmaster
hastened to assist her the aged woman raised herself. Sud-
denly a thought occurred to her. She denied by her son!
It was not possible. As for being herself deceived and tak-
ing another for him, equally impossible. It was certainly
her son whom she had just seen; and if he had not recog-
nized her it was because he would not, it was because he
ought not, it was because he had some cogent reasons for
acting thus! And then, her mother's feelings arising with-
in her, she had only one thought: " Can I unwittingly
have ruined him?"
" I am mad," she said to her interrogators. " My eyes
have deceived me! This young man is not my child. He
had not his voice. Let us think no more of it; if we do I
shall end by finding him everywhere."
152 MICHA EL STROGOFF.
Less than ten minutes afterward a Tartar officer appeared
in the posting-house.
" Marfa Strogoff?" he asked.
" It is I," replied the old woman, in a tone so calm and
with a face so tranquil that those who had witnessed the
meeting with her son would not have known her.
" Come/' said the officer.
Marfa Strogoff, with firm step, followed the Tartar
officer and left the posting-house.
Some moments afterward Marfa Strogoff found herself
in the chief square and in the presence of Ivan Ogareff, to
whom all the details of this scene had been immediately
reported.
Ivan Ogareff, suspecting the truth, interrogated the old
Siberian woman.
" Thy name?" he asked in a rough voice.
"Marfa Strogoff."
"Thou hast a son?"
" Yes,"
" He is a courier of the czar?"
"Yes."
"Where is he?"
" At Moscow."
" Thou hast no news of him?"
" No news."
" Since how long?"
" Since two months."
" Who, then, was that young man whom thou didst call
thy son a few moments ago at the posting-house ?"
"A young Siberian whom I took for him," replied Marfa
Strogoff. " This is the tenth man in whom I have thought
I recognized my son since the town has been so full of
strangers. I think I see him everywhere."
" So this young man was not Michael Strogoff?"
" It was not Michael Strogoff."
MOTHER AND SON. 153
%i Dost thou know, old woman, that I can torture thee
until thou avowest the truth?"
" I have spoken the truth, and torture will not cause me
to alter my words in any way."
"This Siberian was not Michael Strogoff?" asked a
second time Ivan Ogareff.
"No, it was not he/ replied a second time Marfa
Strogoff. " Do you think that for anything in the world I
would deny a son whom God has given me?"
Ivan Ogareff regarded with an evil eye the old woman
who braved him to the face. He did not doubt but that
she had recognized her son in this young Siberian. Now
if this son had first renounced his mother and if his mother
renounced him in her turn, it could occur only from the
most weighty motive.
Ivan Ogareff had therefore no doubt that the pretended
Nicholas Korpanoff was Michael Strogoff, courier of the
czar, seeking concealment under a false name and charged
with some mission which it would have been important for
him to know. He therefore at once gave orders for his
pursuit.
" Let this woman be conducted to Tomsk," he said,
turning toward Marfa Strogoff.
And while the soldiers brutally dragged her along he
added between his teeth:
" When the moment arrives I shall know how to make
her speak, this old sorceress!"
154 MIDEAEL STROGOFK
CHAPTER XV.
THE MARSHES OF THE BARABA.
It was fortunate that Michael Strogoff had left the post-
ing-house so promptly. The orders of Ivan Ogareff had
been immediately transmitted to all the approaches of the
city, and a full description of Michael sent to all the
various commandants in order to prevent his departure
from Omsk. But he had already passed through one of
the breaches in the fortifications; his horse was galloping
over the steppe., and not having been immediately pursued,
the chances of escape were in his favor.
It was on the 29th of July, at eight o'clock in the even-
ing, that Michael Strogoff had left Omsk. This town is
situated about half-way between Moscow and Irkutsk,
where it was necessary that he should arrive within ten
days if he wished to get ahead of the Tartar columns. It
was evident that the unlucky chance which had brought
him into the presence of his mother had betrayed his in-
cognito. Ivan Ogareff was no longer ignorant of the fact
that a courier of the czar had just passed Omsk, taking the
direction of Irkutsk. The dispatches which this courier
bore must have been of immense importance. Michael
Strogoff knew, therefore, that every effort would be made
to capture him.
But what he did not know and could not know was
that Marfa Strogoff was in the hands of Ivan Ogareff,
and that she was about to atone, perhaps with her life,
for that natural exhibition of her feelings which she had
turn unable to restrain when she suddenly found herself
THE MARSHES OF THE BARABA. 155
in the presence of her son. And it was fortunate that he
was ignorant of it. Could he have withstood this fresh
trial?
Michael Strogoff urged on his horse, imbuing him
with all his own feverish impatience, requiring of him one
thing only, namely, to bear him rapidly to the next post-
ing-house, where he could be exchanged for a quicker
conveyance.
At midnight he had cleared seventy versts and halted a
the station of Koulikovo. But there, as he had feared, he
found neither horses nor carriages. Several Tartar detach-
ments had passed along the highway of the steppe. Every-
thing had been stolen or requisitioned both in the villages
and in the posting-houses. It was with difficulty that
Michael Strogoff was even able to obtain some refreshment
for his horse and himself.
It was of great importance, therefore, to spare his horse,
for he could not tell when or how he might be able to
replace it. Desiring, however, to put the greatest possible
distance between himseir and the horsemen whom Ivan
Ogareff had no doubt dispatched in pursuit, he resolved to
push on. After one hour's rest he resumed his course across
the steppe.
Hitherto the weather had been propitious for the journey
of the courier of the czar. The temperature was endurable.
The nights at this time of the year are very short, and as
the}' are lighted by the moon shining through the clouds,
the route over the steppe is practicable. Michael Strogoff,
moreover, was a man certain of his road and devoid of
doubt or hesitation, and in spite of the melancholy thoughts
which possessed him he had preserved his clearness of
mind, and made for his destined point as though it were
visible upon the horizon. When he did halt for a moment
at some turn of the road it was to breathe his horse. Now
he would dismount to ease his steed for a moment, and
156 MICHAEL STROOOFF.
again he would place his ear to the ground to listen for the
sound of galloping horses upon the steppe. Nothing
having occurred to arouse his suspicions, he resumed his
way.
Ah, if all this Siberian country could only have been
invaded by the polar summer day, that permanent day
during which darkness is unknown! This was indeed to
be desired, in order that it could be traversed with more
safety.
On the 30th of July, at nine o'clock in the morning,
Michael Strogoff passed through the station of Touroumoff
and entered the swampy district of the Baraba.
There for a distance of three hundred versts the natural
obstacles would be extremely great. He knew this, but he
also knew that he would certainly surmount them.
These vast marshes of the Baraba, lying between the
sixtieth and fifty-second parallels, form the reservoir to all
the rain-water which finds no outlet either toward the Obi
or toward the Irtish. The soil of this vast depression is
entirely argillaceous and therefore impermeable, so that the
waters remain there and make of it a region very difficult
to cross during the hot season.
There, however, lies the way to Irkutsk, and it is in the
midst of ponds, pools, lakes, and swamps, from which the
sun draws poisonous exhalations, that the road winds
and entails upon the traveler the greatest fatigue and
danger.
In the winter, when everything is frozen over, when
snow has leveled the ground and condensed the miasmatic
exhalations, sledges glide easily and with impunity over
the hardened crust of the Baraba. Hunters then frequent
this game-abounding district for the taking of martens,
sables, and those valuable foxes whose fur is in so much
demand. But during summer the swamps again become
miry and pestilential and when the waters are at too high
a level even impassable.
THE MARSHES OF THE B ARAB A. 157
Michael Strogoff sparred his horse into the midst of a
grassy prairie, differing greatly from the close-cropped sod
of the steppe, upon which immense Siberian herds are
exclusively nourished. This was no longer a boundless
steppe, but a sort of immense copse of arborescent vegeta-
tion.
The grass was there about five or six feet in height, and
had made room for swamp plants, to which the dampness
of the place, assisted by the heat of summer had given
giant proportions. These were principally canes and
rushes, which formed a tangled network, an impenetrable
undergrowth, sprinkled everywhere with a thousand flowers
remarkable for the brightness of their color, among which
shone the lily and the iris, whose perfume mingled with
the tepid exudations which arose from the soil.
Michael Strogoff, galloping among this undergrowth of
cane, was no longer visible from the swamps which bor-
dered the road. The tall grass rose above him, and his
track was indicated only by the flight of innumerable
aquatic birds which rose from the side of the road and dis-
persed into the air in screaming flocks.
The way, however, was clearly traceable. Now it would
lie straight between the dense thicket of marsh plants;
again it would follow the winding shores of vast pools,
some of which, several versts in length and breadth, de-
serve the name of lakes. In other localities the stagnant
waters through which the road lay had been avoided, not
by bridges, but by tottering platforms ballasted with thick
layers of clay, and whose joists shook like a too weak plank
thrown across an abyss. Some of these platforms extended
over a space of two or three hundred feet, and on more
than one occasion travelers by tarantass, especially ladies,
have when crossing on them experienced a nausea similar
to seasickness.
Michael Strogoff, whether the soil beneath his feet was
solid or whether it sank under him, galloped on without
15g MICHAEL STROGOFF.
halt, leaping the space between the rotten joists; but how-
ever fast the}' traveled the horse and the horseman were
unable to escape from the sting of the two-winged insects
which infest this marshy country.
Travelers who are obliged to cross the Baraba during the
summer take care to provide themselves with masks of
horse-hair, to which is attached a coat of mail of very fine
wire, which covers their shoulders. Notwithstanding
these precautions, there are few who come out of these
marshes without having their faces, necks, and hands
covered with red spots. The atmosphere there seems to
bristle with fine needles, and one would almost say that a
knisxht's armor would not protect him against the darts of
these dipetrals. It is a dreary region, which man dearly
disputes with tipulce, gnats, mosquitoes, horse-flies, and
millions of microscopic insects which are not visible to the
naked eye; but although they are not seen they make
themselves felt by their intolerable stinging, to which the
most callous Siberian hunters have never been able to inure
themselves.
Michael Strogoff's horse, stung by these venomous insects,
sprang forward as if the rowels of a thousand spurs had
pierced his flanks. Mad with rage, he tore along over
verst after verst with the speed of an express train, lashing
his sides with his tail, seeking by the rapidity of his pace
an alleviation of his torture.
It required as good a horseman as Michael Strogoff not
to be thrown by the plungings of his horse and the sudden
stops and bounds which he made to escape from the stings
of his persecutors. Having become insensible, so to speak,
to physical suffering, as though he had been under the in-
fluence of a permanent anaesthetic, possessed only with the
one desire to arrive at his destination at whatever cost, he
saw during this mad race only one thing — that the road
tlew rapidly behind him.
THE MARSHES OF THE BARABA. 159
Who would have thought that this district of the Bara-
ba, so unhealthy during the summer, could have afforded
an asylum for human beings?
It was so, however. Several Siberian hamlets appeared
from time to time among the giant canes. Men, women,
children, and old men, clad in the skins of beasts, their faces
covered with hardened blisters of skin, pastured their
poor herds of sheep. In order to preserve the animals
from the attack of the insects they drove them to the
leeward of fires of green wood, which were kept burning
night and day, and the pungent smoke of which floated
over the vast swamp.
When Michael Strogoff perceived that his horse, tired
out, was on the point of succumbing, he halted at one of
these wretched hamlets, and there, forgetting his own
fatigue, he himself rubbed the wounds of the poor animal
with hot grease according to the Siberian custom ; then he
gave him a good feed; and it was only after he had well
groomed and provided for him that he thought of himself
and recruited his strength by a hasty meal of bread and
meat and a glass of kwass. One hour afterward, or at the
most two, he resumed with all speed the interminable road
to Irkutsk.
Thirty versts were thus traversed from Touroumoff,
and on the 30th of July, at four o'clock in the afternoon,
Michael Strogoff, insensible of every fatigue, arrived at
Elamsk.
There it became necessary to give a night's rest to his
horse. The brave animal could no longer have continued
the journey.
At Elamsk, as indeed elsewhere, there existed no
means of transport; for the same reasons as at the
previous villages, neither carriages nor horses were to be
had.
Elamsk, a little town which the Tartars had not yet
1(30 MICHAEL STROGOFF.
visited, was almost entirely depopulated, for it could be
easily invaded from the south and with difficulty succored
from the north. Post-relays, police stations, and the
government house had consequently been abandoned by
order, and both the authorities and the inhabitants had
retired to Kamsk, in the midst of the Baraba.
i Michael Strogoff resigned himself, therefore, to pass the
night at Elamsk, to give his horse twelve hours' rest. He
recalled the instructions which had been given to him at
Moscow — to cross Siberia incognito, to arrive at Irkutsk,
but not to sacrifice success to the rapidity of the journey;
and consequently it was necessary that he should husband
the sole means of transport which remained to him.
On the morrow Michael Strogoff left Elamsk at the
moment when the first Tartar scouts were signaled ten
versts behind upon the road to the Baraba, and he plunged
again into the swampy region. The road was level, which
made it easy, but very tortuous, and therefore long. It
was impossible, moreover, to leave it and to strike a
straight line across that impassable network of pools and
bogs.
On the next day, the 1st of August, one hundred and
twenty versts further, Michael Strogoff arrived at mid-day
at the town of Spaskoe. and at two o'clock he halted at
Pokrowskoe.
His horse, jaded since his departure from Elamsk, could
not have taken a single step more.
There Michael Strogoff was again compelled to lose,
for necessary rest, the end of that day and the entire night :
but starting again or the following morning, and still
traversing the semi-inundated soil, on the 2d of August, at
four o'clock in the afternoon, after a stage of seventy-five
versts, he reached Kamsk.
The country had changed. This little village of Kamsk
lies, like an island, habitable and healthy, in the midst of
THE MARSHES OF THE BARABA. 161
the uninhabitable district. It is situated in the very center
of the Baraba. The emigration caused by the Tartar
invasion had not yet depopulated Kamsk. Its inhabitants
probably fancied themselves safe in the center of the
Baraba, whence at least they thought they would have
time to flee if they were directly menaced.
Michael Strogoff, although exceedingly anxious for
news, could ascertain nothing at this place. It would have
been rather to him that the governor would have ad-
dressed himself had he known who the pretended merchant
of Irkutsk really was. Kamsk, in fact, by its very situa-
tion seemed to be outside the Siberian world and the grave
events which troubled it.
Besides, Michael Strogoff showed himself little, if at all.
To be unperceived was not now enough for him; he
would have wished to be invisible. The experience of the
past made him more and more circumspect in the present
and the future. Therefore he secluded himself, and not
caring to traverse the streets of the village, he would not
even leave the inn at which he had halted.
Michael Strogoff could have found a carriage at Kamsk,
and replaced by a more convenient conveyance the horse
which had borne him from Omsk. But after mature re-
flection he feared that the purchase of a tarantass would
have attracted attention to him, and although he might
well have passed through the line now occupied by the
Tartars which divided Siberia, almost following the valley
of the Irtish, he would not risk the chance of awakening
suspicion.
Moreover, for the difficult passagl of the Baraba,' for the
flight across the marsh, in a case where some danger might
threaten him too directly, to escape horsemen sent in pur-
suit, to throw himself if necessary even into the densest
cane-brake, a horse would no doubt be of more value than
a carriage. Later on, beyond Tomsk, or even Krasnoiarsk,
1G2 MICHAEL STROGOFF.
in some important center of Western Siberia, Michael
Strogoff would see what it might be best to do.
As for his horse, he did not even think of exchanging
him for another animal. He had become accustomed to
this brave creature. He knew to what extent he could
rely upon him. In buying him at Omsk he had been
lucky, and in taking him to the postmaster the generous
mujik had rendered him a great service. Besides, if
Michael Strogoff had already become attached to his
horse, the horse himself seemed to become inured by de-
grees to the fatigue of such a journey, and provided that
he got several hours of repose daily, his rider might hope
that he would carry him beyond the invaded provinces.
So during the evening and night of the 2d of August
Michael Strogoff remained confined to his inn, at the en-
trance of the town, which was little frequented and out of
the way of the importunate and curious.
Exhausted with fatig -e, he went to bed after having
seen that his horse lacked nothing; but his sleep was
broken. What he had seen since his departure from
Moscow showed him the importance of his mission. The
rising was an extremely serious one, and the treachery of
Ogareff made it still more formidable. And when his eyes
fell upon the letter bearing upon it the authority of the
imperial seal — the letter which, no doubt, contained the
remedy for so many evils, tin1 safety of all this war-ravaged
country — Michael Strogoff felt within himself a fierce
desire to dash on across the steppe, to accomplish the dis-
tance which separated him from Irkutsk as the crow would
fly it, to be an eagle that he might overtop all obstacles.
to be a hurricane that he might sweep through the
air at a hundred versts an hour, and to be at last face to
face with the grand duke, and to exclaim:
"Your highness, from his majesty the czar!"
On the next morning at six o'clock Michael Strogoff
THE MARSHES OF THE BAR ABA. 163
started off again, with the intention of making in that day
the eighty versts which separated Kamsk from the hamlet
of Oubinsk. Beyond a radius of twenty versts he came
again upon the swampy Baraba, which in many places was
without any appearance of dry land, the soil being often
covered by a foot of water. The road was therefore found
with difficulty, but thanks to his extreme prudence this
part of the journey was signalized by no incident whatever.
Michael Strogoff having arrived at Oubinsk gave his
horse a whole night's rest, for he wished on the next day
to accomplish the hundred versts which lie between
Oubinsk and Ikoulskoe without halting. He started there-
fore at dawn; but unfortunately the soil of the Baraba in
this neighborhood was more detestable than ever.
In fact, between Oubinsk and Kamakore the very heavy
rains of some previous weeks were retained by this shallow
depression as in a water-tight bowl. There was for a
long distance no break in the succession of swamps,
pools, and lakes. One of these lakes — large enough to
warrant its geographical nomenclature — Tchang, Chinese
in name, had to be coasted for more than twenty versts,
and this with the greatest difficulty. Hence certain delays
occurred which all the impatience of Michael Strogoff
could not avoid. He had been well advised in not taking
a carriage at Kamsk, for his horse passed places which
would have been impracticable for a conveyance on wheels.
In the evening, at nine o clock, Michael Strogoff arrived
at Ikoulskoe and halted there over-night. In this remote
village of the Baraba news of the war was utterly wanting.
From its situation, this part of the province, lying in the
fork formed by the two Tartar columns which had bifur-
cated, one upon Omsk and the other upon Tomsk, had
hitherto escaped the horrors of the invasion.
But the natural obstacles were now about to disappear,
for if he experienced no delay Michael Strogoff should on
1 04 MIC HA EL STROO OFF.
the morrow be free of the Baraba. He would find a prac-
ticable road when he had traversed the one hundred
and twenty-five versts which still separated him from
Kalyvan.
Arrived at that important town, he would be about the
same distance from Tomsk. He would then be guided by
circumstances, and very probably he would decide to go
around that town, which, if the news were true, was occu-
pied by Feofar-Khan.
But if the small towns of Ikoulskoe and Karguinsk,
which he passed on the next day, were comparatively quiet,
owing to their position in the Baraba, where the Tartar
columns would have maneuvered with difficulty, was it not
to be dreaded that upon the right banks of the Obi Michael
Strogoff would have much more to fear from man? It was
probable. However, should it become necessary he would
not hesitate to abandon the beaten path to Irkutsk. To
journey then across the steppe he would, no doubt, run the
risk of finding himself without supplies. There would be,
in fact, no longer a well-marked road. Still, there must
be no hesitation.
Finally, toward half-past three in the afternoon, after
having passed the station of Kargatsk, Michael Strogoff
left the last depressions of the Baraba, and the dry and
hard soil of Siberia rang out once more beneath his horse's
hoofs.
I Ee had left Moscow on the 15th of July. Therefore on this
day, the 5th of August, including more than seventy hours
lost on the banks of the Irtish, twenty days had gone by
since his departure.
Fifteen hundred versts still separated him from Irkutsk.
A FINAL EFFORT. 185
CHAPTER XVI.
A FINAL EFFORT.
Michael's fear of meeting the Tartars in the plains
beyond the Baraba was by no means ungrounded. The
fields, trodden down by horses' hoofs, afforded but too
clear evidence that their hordes had passed that way; the
same, indeed, might be said of these barbarians that has
been said of the Turks, " Where the Turk goes, no grass
grows."
Michael saw at once that in traversing this country the
greatest precaution was necessary. Wreaths of smoke
curling upward on the horizon showed that huts and
hamlets were still burning. Had these been fired by the
advance-guard or had the emir's army already advanced
beyond the boundaries of the province? Was Feofar-
Khan himself in the government of Yeniseisk? Michael
could settle on no line of action until these questions were
answered. Was the country so deserted that he could
not discover a single Siberian to enlighten him on these
points?
Michael rode on for two versts without meeting a
human being on the road. He looked carefully on both
sides for some house which had not been deserted. Every
one was tenantless.
One hut, however, which he could just see between the
trees, was still smoking. As he approached he perceived
at some yards from the ruins of the building an old man
surrounded by weeping children. A woman still young,
1 1 lf; Ml< 'J I A EL STKOGOFF.
evidently his daughter and the mother of the poor children,
kneeling on the ground, was gazing on the scene of deso-
lation. She had at her breast a baby but a few months
old; shortly she would have not even that nourishment to
give it. Ruin and desolation were all around!
Michael approached the old man.
" Will you answer me a few questions?" he asked.
" Speak/' replied the old man.
" Have the Tartars passed this way?"
" Yes; for my house is in flames."
" Was it an army or a detachment?"
" An army; for as far as your eye can reach our fields
are laid waste."
" Commanded by the emir?"
" By the emir; for the Obi's waters are red."
" Has Feofar-Khan entered Tomsk?"
" He has."
"Do you know whether the Tartars have entered
Kalyvan?"
" No; for Kalyvan does not yet burn."
"Thanks, friend. Can I do anything for you and
yours?"
" Nothing."
" Good-by."
"Farewell."
And Michael, having presented twenty-five roubles to
the unfortunate woman, who had not even strength to
thank him, putting spurs to his horse, once more set
forward.
One thing he knew: he must not pass through Tomsk.
To go to Kalyvan, which the Tartars had not yet reached,
was possible. Yes, that is what he must do; there he
must prepare himself for another long stage. There was
nothing for it but, having crossed the Obi, to take the
Irkutsk road and avoid Tomsk.
A FINAL EFFORT, 10?
This new route decided on, Michael must not delay an
instant. Nor did he, but putting his horse into a steady
gallop he took the road toward the left bank of the Obi,
which was still forty versts distant. Would there be a
ferryboat there or should he, rinding that the Tartars had
destroyed all the boats on the river, be obliged to swim
across :
?
As to his horse, it was by this time pretty well worn out,
and Michael intended to make it perform this stage only
and then to exchange it for a fresh one at Kalyvan.
Kalyvan would be like a fresh starting-point, for on leaving
that town his journey' would take a new form. So long as
he traversed a devastated country the difficulties must be
very great; but if, having avoided Tomsk, he could resume
the road to Irkutsk across the province of Yeniseisk, which
was not yet laid waste, he would finish his journey in a few
days.
Night came on, bringing with it refreshing coolness
after the heat of the day. At midnight the steppe was
profoundly dark. The wind having completely fallen at
sunset left the air perfectly still. The sound of the horse's
hoofs alone was heard on the road, except when, every now
and then, its master spoke a few encouraging words. In
such darkness as this great care was necessary lest he should
leave the road, bordered by pools and streams, tributaries
of the Obi.
Michael therefore advanced as quickly as was consistent
with safety. He trusted no less to the excellence of his
eyes, which penetrated the gloom, than to the well-proved
sagacity of his horse.
Just as Michael dismounted to discover the exact direction
of the road, he seemed to hear a confused murmu ring-
sound from the west. It was like the noise of horses' hoofs
at some distance on the parched ground.
Michael listened attentively, putting his ear to the
ground.
]08 MICHAEL STROGOFF.
" It is a detachment of cavalry coming by the road from
Omsk," he said to himself. "They are marching very
quickly, for the noise is increasing. Are they Russians or
Tartars?"
Michael again listened.
"Yes," said he, "they are at a sharp trot. In ten
minutes they will be here. My horse cannot outstrip them.
If they are Russians I will join them; if Tartars I must
avoid them. But how? Where can I hide in this steppe?"
Michael gave a look round and, his eye penetrating the
darkness, discovered a confused mass at a hundred paces
before him on the left of the road.
"There is a copse!" he exclaimed. " To take refuge
there is perhaps to run the risk of being caught if they are
in search of me; but I have no choice."
In a few moments Michael, dragging his horse by the
bridle, reached a little larch wood, through which the road
lay. Beyond this it was destitute of trees and wound
among bogs and pools, separated by dwarfed bushes, whins,
and heather. The ground on either side was quite im-
practicable, and the detachment must necessarily pass
through the wood. They were pursuing the high-road to
Irkutsk. Plunging in about forty feet, he was stopped by
a stream running under the brushwood. But the shadow
was so deep that Michael ran no risk of being seen unless
the wood should be carefully searched. He therefore led
his horse to the stream and fastened him to a tree, return-
ing to the edge of the road to listen and ascertain with
what sort of people he had to do.
Michael had scarcely taken up his position behind a
group of larches, when a confused light appeared, above
which glared brighter lights waving about in the shadow.
" Torches!" said he to himself.
And he drew quickly back, gliding like a savage into the
thickest part of the underwood.
A FINAL EFFORT. 169
As they approached the wood the horses' pace was slack-
ened. The horsemen were probably lighting up the road
with the intention of examining every turn.
Michael feared this and instinctively drew near to the
bank of the stream, ready to plunge in if necessary.
Arrived at the top of the wood, the detachment halted.
The horsemen dismounted. There were about fifty. A
dozen of them carried torches, lighting up the road for
some distance.
By watching their preparations Michael found to his joy
that the detachment were not thinking of visiting the
copse, but only bivouacking near, to rest their horses and
allow the men to take some refreshment.
The horses were soon unsaddled and began to graze on
the thick grass which carpeted the ground. The men
meantime stretched themselves by the side of the road
and partook of the provisions they produced from their
knapsacks.
MichaePs self-possession had never deserted him, and
creeping among the high grass he endeavored not only to
examine the new-comers, but to hear what they said. It
was a detachment from Omsk, composed of Usbeck horse-
men, a race of the Mongolian type, who are very numer-
ous in Tartary. These men, well built, above the medium
height, rough and wild-featured, wore on their heads the
talpak, or black sheepskin cap, and on their feet yellow
high-heeled boots with turned-up toes, like the shoes of the
Middle Ages. Their tunics, of calico padded with raw
cotton, were close-fitting and confined at the waist by a
leathern belt braided with red. They were armed defen-
sively with a shield and offensively with a curved sword, a
long cutlass, and a flintlock musket slung at the saddle-
bow. From their shoulders hung gay-colored cloaks.
The horses, which were feeding at liberty at the edge of
the wood, were, like their masters, of the Usbeck race.
170 MICHAEL STROGOFF.
They could be perfectly seen by the light the torches threw
under the branches of the larches. These animals are
rather smaller than the Turcomanian horses, but are pos-
sessed of remarkable strength and know no other pace than
the gallop.
This detachment was commanded by a pendja-baschi;
that is to say, a commander of fifty men, having under
him a deh-baschi, or simple commander of ten men.
These two officers wore helmets and half coats of mail;
little trumpets fastened to their saddle-bows were the dis-
tinctive signs of their rank.
The pendja-baschi had been obliged to let his men rest,
fatigued with a long stage. He and the second officer,
smoking beng, the leaf of the hemp which forms the base
of the haschisch used so generally by Asiatics, strolled up
and down the wood, so that Michael, without being seen,
could catch and understand their conversation, which was
spoken in the Tartar language.
Michael's attention was singularly excited by the very
first words they uttered.
In fact it was of him they were speaking.
" This courier cannot be much in advance of us," said
the pendja-baschi; "and, on the other hand, it is abso-
lutely impossible that he can have followed any other route
than that of the Bar aba."
"Who knows if he has left Omsk?" replied the deh-
baschi. " Perhaps he is still hidden in some house in the
town."
"That is to be wished, certainly. Colonel Ogaren*
would have no fear then that the dispatches of which this
courier is evidently the bearer should ever reach their des-
tination."
"They say that he is a native, a Siberian," resumed the
deh-baschi. " If so, he must be well acquainted with the
country, and it is possible that lie has left the Irkutsk road,
depending on rejoining it later."
A FINAL EFFORT. 171
" But then we should be in advance of him," answered
the pendja-baschi, " for we left Omsk within an hour after
his departure and have since followed the shortest road
with all the speed of which our horses are capable. He
has therefore either remained in Omsk or we shall arrive at
Tomsk before him, so as to cut off his retreat; and in
either case he will not reach Irkutsk."
" A rugged woman, that old Siberian, who is evidently
his mother," said the deh-baschi.
At this remark Michael's heart beat violently.
" Yes," answered the pendja-baschi. il She stuck to it
well that the pretended merchant was not her son, but it
was too late. Colonel Ogareff was not to be taken in; and,
as he said, he will know how to make the old witch speak
when the time comes."
These words were so many dagger-thrusts for Michael.
He was known to be a courier of the czar! A detachment
of horsemen on his track could not fail to cut him off.
And, worst of all, his mother was in the hands of the Tar-
tars, and the cruel Ogareff had undertaken to make her
speak when he wished!
Michael well knew that the brave Siberian would not
speak and that she would sacrifice her life for him.
Michael had fancied that he could not hate Ivan Ogareff
more than he had hated him up to this moment, and yet
a fresh tide of hate now rose in his heart. The wretch
who had betrayed his country now threatened to torture
his mother.
The conversation between the two officers continued,
and Michael understood that an engagement was imminent
in the neighborhood of Kalyvan between the Muscovite
troops coming from the north and the Tartars. A small
Russian force of two thousand men, reported to have
reached the lower course of the Obi, were advancing by
forced marches toward Tomsk. If such was the case, this
172 MICHAEL STROGOFF.
force, which would soon find itself engaged with the main
body of Feofar-Khan's army, would be inevitably over-
whelmed, and the Irkutsk road would be in the entire pos-
session of the invaders.
As to himself, Michael learned by some words from the
pendja-baschi that a price was set on his head, and that
orders had been given to take him, dead or alive.
It was necessary, therefore, to get the start of the Usbeck
horsemen on the Irkutsk road and put the Obi between
himself and them. But to do that he must escape before
the camp was broken up.
His determination taken, Michael prepared to execute
it.
Indeed, the halt would not be prolonged, and the
pendja-baschi did not intend to give his men more than an
hour's rest, although their horses could not have been
changed for fresh ones since Omsk, and must be as much
fatigued, and for the same reasons, as that of Michael
Strogoff.
There was not a moment to lose. It was within an
hour of morning. It was needful to profit by the dark-
ness, which would be soon dispersed by the dawn, to leave
the little wood and dash along the road; but although
night favored it, the success of such a flight appeared to be
almost impossible.
Not wishing to do anything at random, Michael took
time for reflection, carefully weighing the chances for and
against him, so as to have the best in his hand.
From the situation of the place the result was this: that
he could not escape through the back of the wood, the
stream which bordered it being not only deep, but very
wide and muddy. Great furze bushes, too, rendered it
absolutely impassable. Beneath this thick water was a
slimy bog, on which the foot could not rest. Besides, be-
yond the stream the bushes covering the ground would
A FINAL EFFORT. 173
have offered great difficulties to a rapid flight. The alarm
once given, Michael, pursued and hemmed in, must inevi-
tably fall into the hands of the Tartar horsemen.
There was only one way open, the high-road. To en-
deavor to reach it by creeping round the edge of the wood
without attracting attention, accomplish a quarter of a
verst without being seen, and then to gallop at headlong
speed, required all the remaining strength and energy of
his noble steed. Too probably it would fall dead on reach-
ing the banks of the Obi, when either by boat or by swim-
ming, should other means of transport fail, he must cross
this important river. Such was what Michael had before
him.
His energy and courage increased in sight of danger.
His life, his mission, the honor of his country, perhaps
the safety of his mother, were at stake. He could not
hesitate.
There was not another moment to be lost. Already
there was a slight movement among the men of the detach-
ment. A few horsemen were strolling up and down the
road in front of the wood. The rest were still lying at the
foot of the trees, but their horses were gradually collecting
toward the center of the wood.
Michael had at first thought of seizing one of these
horses, but he recollected that of course he would be as
fatigued as his own. It was better to trust to his own
brave steed, which had already rendered him such impor-
tant service. The good animal, hidden behind a thicket,
had escaped the sight of the Usbecks. They, besides, had
not penetrated so far into the wood.
Michael crawled up to his horse through the grass and
found him lying down. He patted and spoke gently to him
and managed to raise him without noise.
Fortunately enough, the torches were entirely consumed
;ind. now went out, the darkness being still profound, at
174 MICHAEL STROGOFF.
least under shelter of the larches. After replacing the bit,
Michael looked to his girths and stirrups and began to lead
his horse quietly ' away by the bridle. The intelligent
animal, as if he understood what was required of him, fol-
lowed his master without even the least neigh.
However, a few Usbeck horses raised their heads and
began to wander toward the edge of the wood.
Michael held his revolver in his right hand, ready to
blow out the brains of the first Tartar who should approacii
him. But happily the alarm was not given, and he was
able to gain the angle made by the wood to the right where
it joined the road.
To avoid being seen, Michael's intention was not to mount
until the last moment, and only after turning a corner
some two hundred feet from the wood. Unfortunately,
just at the moment that he was issuing from the wood an
Usbeck 's horse, scenting him, neighed and began to trot
along the road.
His master ran to catch him, and seeing a shadowy form
moving in the dim light, " Look out!" he shouted.
At the cry, all the men of the bivouac jumped up and
ran to seize their horses.
Michael could only leap on his steed and gallop away.
The two officers of the detachment urged on their men
to follow.
But Michael was already in the saddle.
At that moment he heard a report and felt a ball pass
through his tunic.
Without turning his head, without replying, he spurred
on, and clearing the brushwood with a tremendous bound
he galloped at full speed in the direction of the Obi.
The Usbecks' horses being unsaddled gave him a small
start of them, but they could not be long in setting off in
pursuit of him; and indeed in less than two minutes after
lie left the wood he heard the tramp of several horses which
were gradually gaining on him,
A FINAL EFFORT. 175
Day was now beginning to break and objects at some
distance were becoming visible.
Michael turned his head and perceived a horseman rap-
idly approaching him.
It was the deh-baschi. Being better mounted, this offi-
cer had distanced his detachment and threatened to come
up with the fugitive.
Without drawing rein, Michael extended his revolver and
took a moment's aim. The Usbeck officer, hit in the
breast, rolled on the ground.
But the other horsemen followed him closely, and with-
out waiting to assist the deh-baschi, exciting each other by
their shouts, digging their spurs into their horses' sides,
they gradually diminished the distance between themselves
and Michael.
For half an hour only was the latter able to keep out of
range of the Tartars, but he well knew that his horse was
becoming weaker and dreaded every instant that he would
stumble never to rise again.
It was now light, although the sun had not yet risen
above the horizon.
Two versts distant could be seen a pale line bordered
by a few trees.
This was the Obi, which flows from the southwest to the
northeast, the surface almost level with the ground, its bed
being but the steppe itself.
Several times shots were fired at Michael, but without
hitting him, and several times too he discharged his revolver
on those of the soldiers who pressed him too closely. Each
time an Usbeck rolled on the ground midst cries of rage
from his companions.
But this pursuit could only terminate to Michael's disad-
vantage. His horse was almost exhausted, and yet he
managed to bring him to the bank of the river.
The Usbeck detachment was now not more than fifty
paces behind him.
176 MICHAEL STROGOFF.
The Obi was deserted — not a boat of any description
which could take him over the water!
" Courage, my brave horse!" cried Michael. "Come!
A last effort!"
And he plunged into the river, which here was half a
verst in width.
It would have been difficult to stand against the current
— indeed, Michael's horse could get no footing. He must
therefore swim across the river, although it was rapid as a
torrent. Even to attempt it showed Michael's marvelous
courage.
The soldiers had reached the bank, but hesitated to
plunge in.
At that moment the pendja-baschi seized his musket and
took aim at Michael, whom he could see in the middle of
the stream. The shot was fired, and Michael's horse, struck
in the side, was borne away by the current.
His master, speedily disentangling himself from his
stirrups, struck out boldly for the shore. In the midst of
a hailstorm of balls he managed to reach the opposite side
and disappeared in the rushes which covered that bank of
the Obi.
THE RIVALS. 17?
CHAPTER XVII.
THE RIVALS.
Michael was now in comparative safety, though his
situation was still terrible.
Now that the faithful animal who had so bravely borne
him had met his death in the waters of the river, how was
he to continue his journey?
He was on foot, without provisions, in a country devas-
tated by the invasion, overrun by the emir's scouts, and
still at a considerable distance from the place he was
striving to reach.
" By Heaven, I will get there!" he exclaimed, in reply to
all the reasons for faltering. " God will protect our sacred
Kussia."
Michael was out of reach of the Usbeck horsemen.
They had not dared to pursue him through the river, and
must besides have thought he was drowned, for after his
disappearance beneath the water they had seen nothing
more of him.
But Michael, creeping up among the gigantic rushes,
had reached a higher part of the bank, though not without
difficulty, for the thick mud deposited by the overflowing
of the water made it slippery in the extreme.
Once more on solid ground, Michael stopped to con-
sider what he should do next. He wished to avoid Tomsk,
now occupied by the Tartar troops. Nevertheless he must
reach some town, or at least a post-house, where he could
procure a horse. A horse once found, he would throw him-
178 MICHAEL STROUOFF.
self out of the beaten track and not again take to the
Irkutsk road until in the neighborhood of Krasnoiarsk.
From that place, if he were quick, he hoped to find the way
still open, and he intended to go through the Lake Baikal
provinces in a southeasterly direction.
Michael began by going eastward.
By following the course of the Obi two versts further a
picturesque little town lying on a small hill is reached. A
few churches, with Byzantine cupolas colored green and
gold, stand up against the gray sky.
This is Kalyvan, where the officers and people employed
at Kamsk and other town& take refuge during the summer
from the unhealthy climate of the Baraba. According to
the latest news obtained by the czar's courier, Kalyvan
could not be yet in the hands of the invaders. The Tartar
troops, divided into two columns, had marched to the left
on Omsk, to the right on Tomsk, neglecting the intermedi-
ate country.
Michael StrogofFs plan was simply this — to reach Kaly-
van before the arrival of the Usbeck horsemen, who would
ascend the left bank of the Obi. There, even if he had to
pay ten times more than they were worth, he would pro-
cure clothes and a horse and resume the road to Irkutsk
across the southern steppe.
It was now three o'clock in the morning. The neigh-
borhood of Kalyvan was very still and appeared to have
been totally abandoned. The country population had evi-
dently fled to the northward, to the province of Yeniseisk,
dreading the invasion, which they could not resist.
Michael was walking at a rapid pace toward Kalyvan
when distant firing struck his ear. He stopped and clearly
distinguished the dull roar of artillery, and above it a crisp
rattle which could not be mistaken.
" It is cannon and musketry !" said he. "The little
Russian body is engaged with the Tartar army! Pray
Heaven that I may arrive at Kalyvan before them !"
THE RIVALS. 179
Michael was not mistaken. The firing hecame gradually
louder, and soon to the left of Kalyvan a mist collected on
the horizon — not smoke, but those great white clouds pro-
duced by discharges of artillery.
The Usbeck horsemen had stopped on the left of the
Obi to await the result of the battle.
On this side Michael had nothing to fear as he hastened
toward the town.
In the mean while the firing increased and became sen-
sibly nearer. It was no longer a confused roar, but dis-
tinct reports. At the same time the smoke partially
cleared, and it became evident that the combatants were
rapidly moving southward. It appeared that Kalyvan was
to be attacked on the north side. But would the Russians
defend it against the Tartar troops, and would they en-
deavor to retake it from the soldiers of Feofar-Khan? It
being impossible to decide this point, Michael became
greatly perplexed.
He was not more than half a verst from Kalyvan when
he observed flames shooting up among the houses of the
town, and the steeple of a church fell in the midst of
clouds of smoke and fire.
Was the struggle, then, in Kalyvan? Michael was com-
pelled to think so. It was evident that Russians and Tar-
tars were fighting in the streets of the town. Was this a
time to seek refuge there? Would he not run a risk of be-
ing taken prisoner? Should he succeed in escaping from
Kalyvan, as he had escaped from Omsk? All these contin-
gencies presented themselves to his mind. He hesitated
and stopped a moment. Would it not be better to try,
even on foot, to reach some small town, such as Diachinks
or another, and there procure a horse at any price? This
was the only thing to be done; and Michael, leaving the
banks of the Obi, went forward to the right of Kalyvan.
The firing had now increased in violence. Flames soon
MICHAEL STROGOFF.
sprang up on the left of the town. Fire was devouring one
entire quarter of Kalyvan.
Michael was running on across the steppe endeavoring
to gain the covert of some trees, when a detachment of
Tartar cavalry appeared on the right.
He dared not continue in that direction. The horsemen
advanced rapidly toward the town, and it would have been
difficult to escape them.
Suddenly, in a thick clump of trees, he saw an isolated
house, which it would be possible to reach before he was
perceived.
Michael had no choice but to run there, hide himself,
and ask or take something to recruit his strength, for he
was exhausted with hunger and fatigue.
He accordingly ran on toward this house, still about half
a verst distant. As he approached he could see that it was
a telegraph office. Two wires left it in westerly and easterly
directions and a third went toward Kalyvan.
It was to be supposed that under the circumstances this
station was abandoned; but even if it was, Michael could
take refuge there and wait till nightfall, if necessary, to
again set out across the steppe covered with Tartar scouts.
Michael ran up to the door and pushed it open.
A single person was in the room whence the telegraphic
messages were dispatched.
This was a clerk, calm, phlegmatic, indifferent to all that
was passing outside. Faithful to his post, he waited be-
hind his little wicket until the public claimed his services.
Michael ran up to him and in a voice broken by fatigue
asked :
"What do you know?"
"Nothing," answered the clerk, smiling.
"Are the Russians and Tartars engaged?"
"They say so."
'•'But who are the victors?"
THE RIVALS. 181
ee I don't know.*'
Such calmness, such indifference in the midst of these
terrible events was scarcely credible.
"And is not the wire cut?" said Michael.
" It is cut between Kalyvan and Krasnoiarsk, but it is
still working between Kalyvan and the Russian frontier."
" For the government?"
"For the government when it thinks proper; for the
public when they pay. Ten kopecks a word whenever you
like, sir!"
Michael was about to reply to this strange clerk that he
had no message to send, that he only implored a little bread
and water, when the door of the house was again thrown
open.
Thinking that it was invaded by Tartars, Michael made
ready to leap out of the window, when two men only en-
tered the room who had nothing of the Tartar soldier about
them.
One of them held a dispatch, written in pencil, in his
hand, and passing the other he hurried up to the wicket of
the imperturbable clerk.
In these two men Michael recognized with astonishment,
which every one will understand, two personages of whom
he was not thinking at all and whom he had never expect-
ed to see again.
They were the two reporters, Harry Blount and Alcide
Jolivet, no longer traveling companions, but rivals, ene-
mies, now that they were working on the field of battle.
They had left Ishim only a few hours after the depar-
ture of Michael Strogoff, and they had arrived at Kalyvan
before him by following the same road, in consequence of
his losing three days on the banks of the Irtish.
And now, after being both present at the engagement
between the Russians and Tartars before the town, they
had left just as the struggle broke out in the streets and
182 MICHAEL STROGOFF.
ran to the telegraph office, so as to send off their rival dis-
patches to Europe and forestall each other in their report of
events.
Michael stood aside in the shadow, and without being
seen himself he could see and hear all that was going on.
He would now hear interesting news and would find out
whether or not he could enter Kalyvan.
Blount, having distanced his companion, took possession
of the wicket, while Alcide Jolivet, contrary to his usual
habit, stamped with impatience.
"Ten kopecks a word," said the clerk as he took the
dispatch.
Blount deposited a pile of roubles on the shelf, while
his rival looked on with a sort of stupefaction.
" Good," said the clerk.
And with the greatest coolness in the world he began to
telegraph the following dispatch:
"Daily Telegraph, London.
" From Kalyvan, Government of Omsk, Siberia, 6th
August.
" Engagement between Eussian and Tartar troops."
The reading was in a distinct voice, so that Michael
heard all that the English correspondent was sending to
his paper.
"Russian troops repulsed with great loss. Tartars
entered Kalyvan to-day."
These words ended the dispatch.
"My turn now," cried Alcide Jolivet, anxious to send
off his dispatch, addressed to his cousin in the Faubourg
Montmartre.
But that was not Blount's idea, who did not intend to
give up the wicket, but have it in his power to send off the
news just as the events occurred. He would therefore not
make way for his companion.
THK RIVALS. 183
" But you have finished!''' exclaimed Jolivet.
" I have not finished/' returned Harry Blount quietly.
And he proceeded to write some sentences, which he
handed in to the clerk, who read out in his calm voice:
" ' John Gilpin was a citizen
Of credit and renown;
A train-band captain eke was he
Of famous London town.' "
Harry Blount was telegraphing some verses learned in
his childhood, in order to employ the time and not give up
his place to his rival. It would perhaps cost his paper
some thousands of roubles, but it would be the first
informed. France could wait.
Jolivet's fury may be imagined, though under any other
circumstances he would have thought it fair warfare. He
even endeavored to force the clerk to take his dispatch in
preference to that of his rival.
" It is that gentleman's right," answered the clerk
coolly, pointing to Blount and smiling in the most amiable
manner.
And he continued faithfully to transmit to the Daily
Telegraph the well-known verses of the poet Cowper.
While he was working Blount walked to the window
and, his field-glass to his eyes, watched all that was going
on in the neighborhood of Kalyvan, so as to complete his
i information.
In a few minutes he resumed his place at the wicket,
and added to his telegram:
" Two churches are in flames. The fire appears to gain
on the right.
" 'John Gilpin's spouse said to her dear,
" Though wedded we have been
Tbese twice ten tedious years, yet we
No holiday have seen " ' "
184 MICHAEL STIiOGOFF.
Alcide Jolivet would have liked just to strangle the
honorable correspondent of the Daily Telegraph.
He again interrupted the clerk, who, quite unmoved,
merely replied:
" It is his right, sir, it is his right — at ten kopecks a
word."
And he telegraphed the following news, just brought
him by Blount:
" Russian fugitives are escaping from the town,
" ' Away went Gilpin — who but lie?
His fame soon spread around:
" He carries weight! he rides a race!
'Tis for a thousand pound! " ' "
And Blount turned round with a quizzical look at his
rival.
Alcide Jolivet fumed.
In the mean while Harry Blount had returned to the
window, but this time, his attention being no doubt di-
verted by the interest of the scene before him, he pro-
longed his absence too long. Therefore when the clerk
had finished telegraphing the last lines dictated by Blount
Alcide Jolivet noiselessly took his place at the wicket, and
just as his rival had done, after quietly depositing a re-
spectable pile of roubles on the shelf, he delivered his dis-
patch, which the clerk read aloud:
" Madeleine Jolivet, 10 Faubourg Montmartre, Paris.
" From Kalyvan, Government of Omsk, Siberia, 6th
August.
"Fugitives are escaping from the town. Russians de-
feated, fiercely pursued by the Tartar cavalry."
And as Harry Blount returned to the wicket he heard
Jolivet completing his telegram by singing in a mocking
tone:
THE RIVALS. 185
" ' II est un petit liomme,
Tout babille de gris,
Dans Paris ! ' "
Imitating his rival, Alcide Jolivet had used a merry
refrain of Be ranger.
" Halloo!" said Harry Blount.
l< Just so/' answered Jolivet.
In the mean time the situation of Kalyvan was alarming
in the extreme. The battle was raging nearer and the
firing was incessant.
At that moment the telegraph house shook to its founda-
tions.
A shell had made a hole in the wall and a cloud of dust
filled the office.
Alcide was just finishing writing these lines:
" ' Joufflu comine une pomme,
Qui, sans un sou comptant ' "
But to stop, dart on the shell, seize it in both hands, throw
it out of the window, and return to the wicket was only
the affair of a moment.
Five seconds later the shell burst outside.
But continuing to draw up his telegram with the great-
est possible coolness, Alcide wrote:
" A six-inch shell has just blown up the wall of the
telegraph office. Expecting a few more of the same size."
Michael Strogoff had no doubt that the Russians were
driven out of Kalyvan. His last resource was to set out
across the southern steppe.
Just then renewed firing broke out close to the telegraph
house, and a perfect shower of bullets smashed all the glass
in the windows.
Harry Blount fell to the ground wounded in the shoulder.
186 MICHAEL STliOOOFF.
Jolivet, even at such a moment, was about to add this
postscript to his dispatch,
" Harry Blount, correspondent of the Daily Telegraph,
has fallen at my side struck by a shot from a volley
of u
when the imperturbable clerk said calmly:
" Sir, the wire has broken.''
And leaving his wicket he quietly took his hat, brushed
it round with his sleeve., and still smiling disappeared
through a little door which Michael had not before per-
ceived.
The house was surrounded by Tartar soldiers, and
neither Michael nor the reporters could effect their retreat.
Alcide Jolivet, his useless dispatch in his hand, had run
to Blount, stretched on the ground, and had bravely lifted
him on his shoulders with the intention of flying with him.
He was too late!
Both were prisoners; and at the same time Michael,
taken unawares as he was about to leap from the window,
fell into the hands of the Tartars!
PART II.
CHAPTER I.
A TARTAR CAMP.
At a day's march from Kalyvan, several versts beyond
the town of Diachinks, stretches a wide plain, planted here
and there with great trees, principally pines and cedars.
This part of the steppe is usually occupied during the
warm season by Siberian shepherds, who there feed their
numerous flocks. But now it might have been searched in
vain for one of its nomad inhabitants. Not that the plain
was deserted. On the contrary, it presented a most ani-
mated appearance.
There stood the Tartar tents; there Feofar-Khan, the
terrible Emir of Bokhara, was encamped; and there on the
following day, the 7th of August, were brought the prison-
ers taken at Kalyvan after the annihilation of the Russian
force, which had vainly attempted to oppose the progress
of the invaders. Of the two thousand men who had
engaged with the two columns of the enemy, the bases of
which rested on Tomsk and Omsk, only a few hundred re-
mained. Thus events were going badly and the imperial
government appeared to have lost its power beyond the
frontiers of the Ural — for a time at least, for the Russians
could not fail eventually to defeat the savage hordes of the
invaders. But in the mean time the invasion had reached
the center of Siberia, and it was spreading through the re-
188 MICHAEL 8TR0G0FF.
vol ted country both to the eastern and the western prov-
inces. If the troops of the Amoor and the province of
Takutsk did not arrive in time to occupy it, this capital of
Asiatic Russia, being insufficiently garrisoned, would fall
into the hands of the Tartars, and before it could be re-
taken the grand duke, brother of the emperor, would be
sacrificed to the vengeance of Ivan Ogareff.
What had become of Michael Strogoff? Had he broken
down under the weight of so many trials? Did he consider
himself conquered by the series of disasters which, since
the adventure of Ishim, had increased in magnitude? Did
he think his cause lost? that his mission had failed? that
his orders could no longer be obeyed?
Michael was one of those men who never give in while
life exists. He was yet alive; he still had the imperial
letter safe about him; his disguise had been undiscovered.
He was included among the numerous prisoners whom the
Tartars were dragging with them like cattle; but by ap-
proaching Tomsk he was at the same time drawing nearer
to Irkutsk. Besides, he was still in front of Ivan Ogareft.
"I will get there!" he repeated to himself.
Since the affair of Kalyvan all the powers of his mind
were concentrated on one object — to become free! How
should he escape from the emir's soldiers? When the time
came he would see.
Feofar's camp presented a magnificent spectacle.
Numberless tents of skin, felt, or silk glistened in the
rays of the sun. The lofty plumes which surmounted their
conical tops waved amid banners, flags, and pennons of
every color. The richest of these tents belonged to the
seides and khodjas, who are the principal personages of the
khanat. A special pavilion, ornamented with a horse's
tail issuing from a sheaf of red-and- white sticks artistically
interlaced, indicated the high rank of these Tartar chiefs.
Then in the distance rose several thousand of the Turco-
A TARTAR CAMP. 189
man tents, called karaoy, which had been carried on the
backs of camels.
The camp contained at least a hundred and fifty thousand
soldiers, as many foot as horse soldiers, collected under the
name of Alamanes. Among them, and as the principal
types of Turkestan, would have been directly remarked the
Tadjiks, from their regular features, white skin, tall forms,
and black eyes and hair; they formed the bulk of the Tar-
tar army, and of them the khanats of Khokhand and
Koondooz had furnished a contingent nearly equal to that
of Bokhara. With the Tadjiks were mingled specimens of
different races who either reside in Turkestan or whose
native countries border on it. There were Usbecks, red-
bearded, small in stature, similar to those who had pursued
Michael. Here were Kirghiz, with flat faces like the Kal-
mucks, dressed in coats of mail; some carried the lance,
bows, and arrows of Asiatic manufacture; some the saber,
a matchlock gun, and the tschakane, a little short-handled
ax, the wounds from which invariably prove fatal. There
were Mongols — of middle height, with black hair plaited
into pigtails, which hung down their backs; round faces,
swarthy complexions, lively deep-set eyes, scanty beards —
dressed in blue nankeen trimmed with black plush, sword-
belts of leather with silver buckles, boots gayly braided,
and silk caps edged with fur and three ribbons fluttering
behind. Brown-skinned Afghans too might have been
seen; Arabs having the primitive type of the beautiful
Semitic races; and Turcomans, with eyes which looked as
if they had lost the pupil — all enrolled under the emir's
flag, the flag of incendiaries and devastators.
Among these free soldiers were a certain number of slave
soldiers, principally Persians, commanded by officers of the
same nation, and they were certainly not the least esteemed
of Feofar-Khan's army.
If to this list are added the Jews, who acted as servants,
X90 MICHAEL STHOQOFF.
their robes confined with a cord, and wearing on their
heads instead of the turban, which is forbidden them, little
caps of dark cloth; if with these groups are mingled some
hundreds of kalenders, a sort of religious mendicants,
clothed in rags, covered by a leopard skin, some idea may-
be formed of the enormous agglomerations of different
tribes included under the general denomination of the
Tartar army.
Fifty thousand of these soldiers were mounted, and the
horses were not less varied than the men. Among these
animals, fastened by tens to two cords fixed parallel to
each other, the tail knotted, the croup covered with a net
of black silk, might be remarked the Turcomans, with
slight legs, long bodies, glossy hair, and noble of look; the
Usbecks, which are fine beasts; the Khokhandians, which
carry, besides their masters, two tents and a cooking ap-
paratus; the Kirghiz, with glossy coats, from the banks of
the river Emba, where they are taken with the arcane, the
Tartar lasso; and many others of mixed breeds of inferior
quality.
The beasts of burden might be counted by thousands.
There were camels of small size, but well made, with long
hair and thick mane falling on their necks, docile and
more easy to harness than the dromedary called nars, with
a hump and reddish curly hair. To these must be added
vast numbers of donkeys, which are good workers; their
flesh being also much esteemed and forming part of the
Tartar's food.
Over this immense collection of men, animals, and tents
large clumps of cedars and pines threw a cool shade, broken
here and there by the sun's rays.
Nothing could be more romantic than this picture, in
delineating which the most skillful artist would have ex-
hausted all the colors of his palette.
When the prisoners taken at Kalyvan arrived before
A TARTAR CAMP. 191
the tents of Feofar and the great dignitaries of the khanat,
the drums beat and the trumpets sounded. With these
formidable sounds were mingled the sharp musket-shots
and the deeper reports of the cannon, four or six of which
composed the artillery of the emir. Feofar's camp was
purely military. What might be called his domestic
establishment, his harem, and those of his allies were at
Tomsk, now in the hands of the Tartars. When the
camp broke up Tomsk would become the emir's residence
until the time when he should exchange it for the capital
of Eastern Siberia.
Feofar's tent overlooked the others. Draped in large
folds of a brilliant silk looped with golden cords and
tassels, surmounted by tall plumes which waved in the
wind like fans, it occupied the center of a wide clearing,
sheltered by a grove of magnificent birch and pine trees.
Before this tent, on a japanned table inlaid with precious
stones, was placed the sacred book of the Koran, its pages
being of thin gold-leaf delicately engraved. Above floated
the Tartar flag, quartered with the emir's arms.
In a semicircle round the clearing stood the tents of the
great functionaries of Bokhara. There resided the chief
of the stables, who has the right to follow the emir on
horseback even into the court of his palace; the grand
falconer; the housch-begui, bearer of the royal seal; the
toptschi-baschi, grand master of the artillery; the khodja,
chief of the council, who receives the prince's kiss and
may present himself before him with his girdle untied;
the scheikh-oul-islam, chief of the Ulemas, representing
the priests; the cazi-askev, who in the emir's absence
settles all disputes raised among the soldiers; and lastly,
the chief of the astrologers, whose great business is to
consult the stars every time the khan thinks of changing
his quarters.
When the prisoners were brought into the camp the
1:jo MICHAEL STROGOFF.
emir was in his tent. He did not show himself. This
was fortunate, no doubt. A sign, a word from him might
have been the signal for some bloody execution. But he
intrenched himself in that isolation which constitutes in
part the majesty of Eastern kings. He who does not
show himself is admired and, above all, feared.
As to the prisoners, they were to be penned up in some
inclosure, where, ill-treated, poorly fed, and exposed to all
the inclemencies of the weather, they would await Feofar's
pleasure.
The most docile and patient of them all was un-
doubtedly Michael Strogoff. He allowed himself to be
led, for they were leading him where he wished to go and
under conditions of safety which, free, he could not have
found on the road from Kalyvan to Tomsk. To escape
before reaching that town was to risk again falling into the
hands of the scouts who were scouring the steppe. The
most eastern line occupied by the Tartar columns was not
situated beyond the eighty-fifth meridian, which passes
through Tomsk. This meridian once passed, Michael
considered that he should be beyond the hostile zones;
that he could traverse Genisci without danger and gain
Krasnoiarsk before Feofar-Khan had invaded the province.
" Once at Tomsk/' he repeated to himself, to repress
some feelings of impatience which be could not entirely
master, " in a few minutes I should be beyond the out-
posts; and twelve hours gained on Feofar, twelve hours on
Ogarefr* — that would be enough to give me a start of them
to Irkutsk."
The thing that Michael dreaded more than everything
else was the presence of Ivan Ogareif in the Tartar camp.
Besides the danger of being recognized, he felt, by a sort
of instinct, that this was the traitor whom it was especially
necessary to precede. He understood, too, that the union
of Ogareff's troops with those of Feofar would complete
A TARTAR CAMP. 193
the invading army, and that the junction once effected, the
army would march en masse on the capital of Eastern
Siberia. Ail his apprehensions, therefore, came from this
quarter, and he dreaded every instant to hear some flourish
of trumpets announcing the arrival of the lieutenant of the
emir.
To this was added the thought of his mother, of Nadia,
— the one a prisoner at Omsk, the other dragged on board
the Irtish boats and no doubt a captive, as Marfa Strogoff
was. He could do nothing for them. Should he ever see
them again?
At this question, to which he dared not reply, his heart
sank very low.
At the same time with Michael Strogoff and so many
other prisoners Harry Blount and Alcide Jolivet had also
been taken to the Tartar camp. Their former traveling
companion, captured like them at the telegraph ofn"ce,
knew that they were penned up with him in the inclosure,
guarded by numerous sentinels, but he did not wish to ac-
cost them. It mattered little to him, at this time espe-
cially, what they might think of him since the affair at
Ishim Besides, he decided to be alone, that he might act
alone if necessary. He therefore held himself aloof from
his former acquaintances.
From the moment that Harry Blount had fallen by his
side Jolivet had not ceased his attentions to him. During
the journey from Kalyvan to the camp — that is to say, for
several hours — Blount, by leaning on his companion's arm,
had been enabled to follow the rest of the prisoners. He
tried to make known that he was a British subject, but it
had no effect on the barbarians, who only replied by prods
with a lance or sword. The correspondent of the Daily
Telegraph was, therefore, obliged to submit to the common
lot, resolving to protest later and obtain satisfaction for
such treatment. But the journey was not the less disa-
19-4 MICHAEL STROGOFF.
greeable to him, for his wound caused him much pain, and
without Alcide J olivet's assistance he might never have
reached the camp.
Jolivet, whose practical philosophy never abandoned
him, had physically and morally strengthened his compan-
ion by every means in his power. His first care, when they
found themselves definitely established in the inclosure,
was to examine Blount's wound. Having managed care-
fully to draw off his coat, he found that the shoulder had
been only grazed by the shot.
" This is nothing," he said. "A. mere scratch! After
two or three dressings, my dear fellow, you will be all to
rights."
" But these dressings?" asked Blount.
" I will make them for you myself."
" Then you are something of a doctor?"
" All Frenchmen are some thins: of doctors."
And on this affirmation Alcide, tearing his handker-
chief, made lint of one piece, bandages of the other, took
some water from a well dug in the middle of the inclosure,
bathed the wound, which happily was not serious, and
skillfully placed the wet rag on Harry Blount's shoulder.
" I treat you with water," he said. " This liquid is the
most efficacious sedative known for the treatment of wounds
and is the most employed now. Doctors have taken six thou-
sand years to discover that! Yes, six thousand years in
round numbers!"
" I thank yon, M. Jolivet," answered Harry, stretching
himself on a bed of dry leaves, which his companion had
arranged for him in the shade of a birch tree.
" Bah! that's nothing! You would do as much for me."
"I am not quite so sure." said Blount candidly.
"Nonsense, stupid! All English are generous. "
"Doubtless; but the French?"
u Well, the French — they are brutes, if you like! But
A TARTAR CAMP. 195
what redeems them is that they are French. Say nothing
more about that, or rather, if you will take my advice,
say nothing more at all. Rest is absolutely necessary for
you."
But Harry Blount had no wish to be silent. If the
wound, in prudence, required rest, the correspondent of
the Daily Telegraph was not a man to indulge himself.
" M. Jolivet," he asked, " do you think that our last dis-
patches have been able to pass the Russian frontier?"
"Why not?" answered Alcide. "By this time you may
be sure that my beloved cousin knows all about the affair
at Kalyvan."
" How many copies does your cousin work off of her dis-
patches?" asked Blount, for the first time putting this
question direct to his companion.
"Well," answered Alcide, laughing, "my cousin is a
very discreet person who does not like to be talked about
and who would be in despair if she troubled the sleep of
which you are in need."
"I don't wish to sleep," replied the Englishman.
"What will your cousin think of the affairs of Russia?"
" That they seem for a time in a bad way. But, bah!
the Muscovite government is powerful. It cannot be really
uneasy at an invasion of barbarians, and Siberia will not be
lost."
"Too much ambition has lost the greatest empires," an-
swered Blount, who was not exempt from a certain Eng-
lish jealousy with regard to Russian pretensions in Central
Asia.
" Oh, do not let us talk politics," cried Jolivet. "It is
forbidden by the faculty. Nothing can be worse for
wounds in the shoulder — unless it was to put you to sleep."
" Let us, then, talk of what we ought to do," replied
Blount. " M. Jolivet, I have no intention at all of re-
maining a prisoner to these Tartars for an indefinite time."
lyG MICHAEL STROQOFF.
" Nor I either, by Jove!"
" We will escape on the first opportunity?"
"Yes, if there is no other way of regaining onr
liberty."
" Do yon know of any other?" asked Blount, looking at
his companion.
"Certainly. We are not belligerents; we are neutral
and we will claim our freedom."
"From that brute of a Feofar-Khan?"
"No; he would not understand," answered Jolivet;
"but from his lieutenant, Ivan Ogareff."
"He is a villain."
"No doubt; but the villain is a Kussian. He knows
that it does not do to trifle with the rights of men, and he
has no interest to retain us; on the contrary. But to ask
a favor of that gentleman does not quite suit my taste."
" But that gentleman is not in the camp, or at least I
have not seen him here," observed Blount.
" He will come. He will not fail to do that. He must
join the emir. Siberia is cut in two now, and very cer-
tainly Feofar's army is only waiting for him to advance on
Irkutsk."
" And once free what shall we do?"
" Once free we will continue our campaign and follow
the Tartars until the time comes when we can make our
way into the Russian camp. We must not give up the
game. No, indeed; we have only just begun. You,
friend, have already had the honor of being wounded in the
service of the Daily Telegraph, while I— I have as yet suf-
fered nothing in my cousin's service. Well! well! Good,"
murmured Alcicle Jolivet; "there he is asleep. A few
hours' sleep and a few cold-water compresses are all that
are required to set an Englishman on his legs again.
These fellows are made of cast-iron."
And while Harry Blount rested Alcide watched near
A TARTAR GAMP. 19?
him, after having drawn out his note-book, which he load-
ed with notes, determined besides to share them with his
companion, for the greater satisfaction of the readers of the
Daily Telegraph. Events had united them one with the
other. They were no longer jealous of each other. So,
then, the thing that Michael Strogoff dreaded above every-
thing was the most lively desire of the two correspondents.
Ivan Ogareff's arrival would evidently be of use to
them, for their quality of English and French correspond-
ents once known, nothing could be more probable than
that they would be set at liberty. The emir's lieutenant
would know how to make Feofar hear reason, though he
would otherwise not have failed to treat the correspondens
as ordinary spies. Blount and Jolivet's interest was, there-
fore, contrary to that of Michael. The latter well under-
stood the situation, and it was one reason, added to many
others, which prevented him from approaching his former
traveling companions. He therefore managed so as not to
be seen by them.
Four days passed thus without the state of things being
in any wise altered. The prisoners heard no talk of the
breaking up of the Tartar camp. They were strictly
guarded. It would have been impossible for them to pass
the cordon of foot and horse soldiers which watched them
night and day. As to the food which was given them, it
was barely sufficient. Twice in the twenty-four hours they
were thrown a piece of the intestines of goats grilled on the
coals, or a few bits of that cheese called kroute, made of
sour ewe's milk, and which, soaked in mare's milk, forms
the Kirghiz dish commonly called koumyss. And this
was all. It may be added that the weather had become
detestable. There were considerable atmospheric commo-
tions, bringing squalls mingled with rain. The unfortu-
nate prisoners, destitute of shelter, had to bear all the
inclemencies of the weather, nor was there the slightest
1 98 MIC 11. 1 KL STROGOFF.
alleviation of their misery. Several wounded women and
children died, and the prisoners were themselves compelled
to dig graves for the bodies of those whom their jailers
would not even take the trouble to bury.
During this trying period Alcide Jolivet and Michael
Strogoff worked hard, each in the portions of the inclosure
:n which they found themselves. Healthy and vigorous,
they suffered less than so many others and could better en-
dure the hardships to which they were exposed. By their
advice and the assistance they rendered they were of the
greatest possible use to their suffering and despairing fel-
low-captives.
Was this state of things to last? Would Feofar-Khan,
satisfied with his success, wait some time before marching
on Irkutsk? Such, it was to be feared, would be the case.
But it was not so. The event so much wished for by Joli-
vet and Blount, so much dreaded by Michael, occurred on
the morning of the 12th of August.
On that day the trumpets sounded, the drums beat, the
canuon roared. A huge cloud of dust swept along the road
from Kalyvan. Ivan Ogareff, followed by several thousand
men, made his entry into the Tartar camp.
CORRESPONDENTS IN TROUBLE. 199
CHAPTER II.
CORRESPONDENTS IN TROUBLE.
{van Ogareff was bringing up the main body of the
army to the emir. The cavalry and infantry now under
him had formed part of the column which had taken Omsk.
Ogareff, not having been able to reduce the high town, in
which, it must be remembered, the governor and garrison
had sought refuge, had decided to pass on, not wishing to
delay operations which ought to lead to the conquest of
Eastern Siberia.
He therefore left a sufficient garrison in Omsk, and re-
enforcing himself en route with the conquerors of Kaly-
van, joined Feofars army.
Ivan OgarefTs soldiers halted at the outposts of the camp.
They received no orders to bivouac. Their chief's plan,
doubtless, was not to halt there, but to press on and reach
Tomsk in the shortest possible time, it being an important
town, naturally intended to become the center of future
operations.
Besides his soldiers, Ogareff was bringing a convoy of
Russian and Siberian prisoners, captured either at Omsk
or Kalyvan. These unhappy creatures were not led to the
inclosure — already too crowded — but were forced to remain
at the outposts without shelter, almost without nourish-
ment. What fate was Feofar-Khan reserving for these un-
fortunates? Would he imprison them in Tomsk or would
some bloody execution, familiar to the Tartar chiefs, re-
move them when they were found too inconvenient? This
was the secret of the capricious emir.
200 MICHAEL STROGOFF.
This army had not come from Omsk and Kalyvan with-
out bringing in its train the usual crowd of beggars, free-
booters, peddlers, and gypsies which compose the rear-guard
of an army on the march.
All these people lived on the country traversed and left
little of anything behind them. There was, therefore, a
necessity for pushing forward, if only to secure provisions
for the troops. The whole region between I shim and the
Obi, now completely devastated, no longer offered any re-
sources. The Tartars left a desert behind them, which the
Russians could not cross without difficulty.
Conspicuous among the gypsies who had hastened from
the western provinces was the Tsigane troop which had ac-
companied Michael Strogoff as far as Perm. Sangarre was
there. This fierce spy, the tool of Ivan Ogareff, had not
deserted her master. We have seen them both laying their
plots in Russia itself, in the government of Nijni-Novgo-
rod. After crossing the Urals they had been separated for
a few days only. Ogareff had traveled rapidly to Ishim,
while Sangarre and her band had proceeded to Omsk by the
southern part of the province.
It may be easily understood how useful this woman was
to Ogareff. With her gypsy baud she could penetrate any-
where, hearing and reporting everything. Ivan Ogareff
was kept acquainted with all that was going on in the very
heart of the invaded provinces. There were a hundred
eyes, a hundred ears, always open in his service. Besides,
he paid liberally for this espionage, from which he derived
so much advantage.
Once Sangarre, being implicated in a very serious affair,
had been saved by the Russian officer. She never forgot
what she owed him and had devoted herself to his service
body and soul.
When Ivan Ogareff entered on the path of treason, he
saw at once how he might turn this woman to account.
CORRESPONDENTS IN TROUBLE. 201
Whatever order be might give her Sangarre would execute
it. An inexplicable instinct, more powerful still than that
of gratitude, had urged her to make herself the slave of the
traitor to whom she was attached since the very beginning
of his exile in Siberia.
Confidante and accomplice, Sangarre, without country,
without family, had been delighted to put her vagabond
life to the service of the invaders thrown by Ogareff on Si-
beria. To the wonderful cunning natural to her race she
added a wild energy which knew neither forgiveness nor
pity. She was a savage worthy to share the wigwam of an
Apache or the hut of an Andaman.
Since her arrival at Omsk, where she had rejoined him
with her Tsiganes, Sangarre had not again left Ogareff.
The circumstance that Michael and Marfa Strogoff had met
was known to her. She knew and shared Ogareff's fears
concerning the journey of a courier of the czar. Having
Marfa Strogoff in her power, she would have been the
woman to torture her with all the refinement of a redskin
in order to wrest her secret from her. But the hour had
not yet come in which Ogareff wished the old Siberian to
speak. Sangarre had to wait, and she waited, without los-
ing sight of her whom she was watching, observing her
slightest gestures, her slightest words, endeavoring to catch
the word "son" escaping from her lips, but as yet always
baffled by Marfa's taciturnity.
At the first flourish of the trumpets several officers of
high rank, followed by a brilliant escort of Usbeck horse-
men, moved to the front of the camp to receive Ivan
Ogareff.
Arrived in his presence, they paid him the greatest re-
spect and invited him to accompany them to Feofar-Khan's
tent.
Imperturbable as usual, Ogareff replied coldly to the def-
erence paid to him. He was plainly dressed, but from u,
202 MICHAEL 8TU0G0FF.
sort of impudent bravado he still wore the uniform of a
Russian officer.
As he was about to ride on to pass the enciente of the
camp, Sangarre, passing among the officers of the escort,
approached and remained motionless before him.
"Nothing?" asked Ivan Ogareff.
"Nothing."
" Have patience."
" Is the time approaching when you will force the old
woman to speak?"
" It is approaching, Sangarre."
" When will the old woman speak?"
"When we reach Tomsk."
" And we shall be there "
" In three days."
A strange gleam shot from Sangarre's great black eyes,
and she retired with a calm step. Ogareff pressed his
spurs into his horse's flanks, and followed by his staff of
Tartar officers rode toward the emir's tent.
Feofar-Khan was expecting his lieutenant. The council,
composed of the bearer of the royal seal, the khodja, and
some high officers, had taken their places in the tent.
Ivan Ogareff dismounted, entered, and stood before the
emir.
Feofar-Khan was a man of forty, tall, rather pale, of a
fierce countenance, and eyes with an evil expression. A
curly black beard flowed over his chest. With his war
costume, coat of mail of gold and silver, cross-belt glisten-
ing with precious stones, scabbard curved like a yataghan
and set with sparkling gems, boots with golden spurs,
helmet ornamented with an aigrette of brilliant diamonds,
Feofar presented an aspect rather strange than imposing
for a Tartar Sardanapalus, an undisputed sovereign, who
directs at his pleasure the life and fortune of his subjects
— whose power is unlimited and to whom at Bokhara, by
special privilege, the title of emir is given.
CORRESPONDENTS IN TROUBLE. 203
When Ivan Ogareff appeared the great dignitaries re-
mained seated on their gold-embroidered cushions, but
Feofar rose from a rich divan which occupied the back
part of the tent, the ground being hidden under the thick
velvet-pile of a Bokharian carpet.
The emir approached Ogareff and gave him a kiss, the
meaning of which he could not mistake. This kiss made
the lieutenant chief of the council and placed him tempo-
rarily above the khodja.
Then Feofar addressed himself to Ivan Ogareff.
" I have no need to question you," said he; " speak,
Ivan. You will find here ears very ready to listen to
you."
" Takhsir," answered Ogareff, " this is what I have to
make known to you.
Ivan Ogareff spoke in the Tartar language, giving to his
phrases the emphatic turn which distinguishes the language
of the Orientals.
" Takhsir, this is not the time for unnecessary words.
What I have done at the head of your troops you know.
The lines of the Ishim and the Irtish are now in our
power, and the Turcoman horsemen can bathe their
horses in the now Tartar waters. The Kirghiz hordes rose
at the voice of Feofar-Khan, and the principal Siberian
route from Ishim to Tomsk belongs to you. You can
therefore push on your troops as well toward the east,
where the sun rises, as toward the west, where he sets."
"And if I march with the sun?" asked the emir, who
listened without his countenance betraying any of hi
thoughts.
"To march with the sun," answered Ogareff, "is to
throw yourself toward Europe; it is to conquer rapidly the
Siberian provinces of Tobolsk as far as the Ural Moun-
tains."
" And if I go to meet this luminary of the heavens?"
204 MICHAEL STROGOFF.
" It is to subdue to the Tartar dominion, with Irkutsk,
the richest countries of Central Asia."
"But the armies of the Sultan of St. Petersburg?"
said Feofar-Khan, designating the Emperor of Russia by
this strange title.
"You have nothing to fear from them, either from the
east or from the west," replied Ivan Ogareff. "The inva-
sion has been sudden, and before the Russian army can
succor them, Irkutsk or Tobolsk will have fallen into
your power. The czar's troops have been overwhelmed
at Kalyvan, as they will be everywhere where yours meet
them."
"And what advice does your devotion to the Tartar
cause suggest?" asked the emir after a few moments'
silence.
"My advice," answered Ivan Ogareff quickly, "is to
march to meet the sun. It is to give the grass of the
eastern steppes to the Turcoman horses to consume. It
is to take Irkutsk, the capital of the eastern provinces, and
with it a hostage the possession of whom is worth a whole
country. In the place of the czar, the grand duke his
brother must fall into your hands."
This was the great result aimed at by Ivan Ogareff.
To listen to him, one would have taken him for one of the
cruel descendants of Stepan Razine, the celebrated pirate
who ravaged Southern Russia in the eighteenth century.
To seize the grand duke and murder him pitilessly would
fully satisfy his hatred. Besides, with the capture of
Irkutsk all Eastern Siberia would pass under the Tartar
dominion.
" It shall be thus, Ivan," replied Feofar.
"What are your orders, takhsir?"
"To-day our headquarters shall be removed to
Tomsk." '
Ogareff bowed, and followed by the housch-begui he
retired to execute the emir's orders.
CORRESPONDENTS IN TROUBLE. 206
As he was about to mount his horse, to return to the
outposts, a tumult broke out at some distance, in the part
of the camp reserved for the prisoners. Shouts were heard
and two or three shots fired. Perhaps it was an attempt
at revolt or escape, which must be summarily suppressed.
Ivan Ogareff and the housch-begui walked forward a
few steps, and almost immediately two men, whom the
soldiers had not been able to keep back, appeared before
them.
The housch-begui, without more information, made a
sign which was an order for death, and the heads of the
two prisoners would have rolled on the ground had not
Ogareff uttered a few words which arrested the sword
already raised aloft.
The Russian had perceived that these prisoners were
strangers, and he ordered them to be brought up to
him.
They were Harry Blount and Alcide Jolivet.
On Ogareff's arrival in the camp they had demanded
to be conducted to his presence. The soldiers had refused.
In consequence a struggle, an attempt at flight, shots fired
which happily missed the two correspondents, but their
execution would not have been long delayed if it had not
been for the intervention of the emir's lieutenant.
The latter observed the prisoners for some moments,
they being absolutely unknown to him. They had been
present at that scene in the post-house at Ishim in which
Michael Strogoff had been struck by Ogareff, but the
brutal traveler had paid no attention to the persons then
collected in the common room.
Blount and Jolivet, on the contrary, recognized him at
once, and the latter said in a low voice:
"Halloo! It seems that Colonel Ogareff and the rude
personage of Ishim are one!"
Then he added in his companion's ear:
206 MICHAEL STROGOFF.
" Explain our affair, Blount. You will do me a service.
This Russian colonel in the midst of a Tartar camp dis-
gusts me; and although, thanks to him, my head is still
on my shoulders, my eyes would exhibit my feelings were
I to attempt to look him in the face."
So saying, Alcide Jolivet assumed a look of complete
and haughty indifference.
Whether or not Ivan Ogareff perceived that the pris-
oner's attitude was insulting toward him, he did not let it
appear.
" Who are you, gentlemen?" he asked in Russian, in a
cold tone, but free from its usual rudeness.
' ( Two correspondents of the English and French news-
papers," replied Blount laconically.
" You have, doubtless, papers which will establish your
identity?"
" Here are letters which accredit us in Russia from the
English and French chancellor's office."
Ivan Ogareff took the letters which Blount held out to
him and read them attentively.
" You ask," said he, "the authorization to follow our
military operations in Siberia?"
" We ask to be free, that is all," answered the English
correspondent dryly.
"You are so, gentlemen," answered Ogareff, "and I
shall be curious to read your articles in the Daily Tele-
graph. "
"Sir," replied Harry Blount, with the most imper-
turbable coolness, "it is sixpence a number, including
postage."
And thereupon Blount returned to his companion, who
appeared to approve completely of his replies.
Ivan Ogareff, without frowning, mounted his horse, and
going tc the head of his escort, soon disappeared in a cloud
of dust.
CORRESPONDENTS IN TROUBLE. 207
" Well, Monsieur Jolivet, what do you think of Colonel
Ivan Ogareff, general-in-chief of the Tartar troops?" asked
Blount.
"I think, my dear friend," replied Alcide, smiling,
" that the housch-begui made a very graceful gesture when
he gave the order for our heads to be cut off."
Whatever was the motive which led Ogareff to act thus
in regard to the two correspondents, they were free and
could rove at their pleasure over the scene of war. Their
intention was not to leave it. The sort of antipathy
which formerly they had entertained for each other had
given place to a sincere friendship. Circumstances having
brought them together, they no longer thought of separat-
ing. The petty questions of rivalry were forever ex-
tinguished. Harry Blount could never forget what he
owed his companion, who, on the other hand, never tried
to remind him of it. This friendship, too, assisted the
reporting operations, and was thus to the advantage of their
readers.
"And now," asked Blount, "what shall we do with our
liberty?"
" Take advantage of it, of course," replied Alcide, "and
go quietly to Tomsk to see what is going on there."
"Until the time — very near, I hope — when we may
rejoin some Russian regiment?"
"As you say, my dear Blount, it won't do to Tartarize
ourselves too much. The best side is that of the most
civilized army, and it is evident that the people of Central
Asia will have everything to lose and absolutely nothing to
gain from this invasion, while the Russians will soon repulse
them. It is only a matter of time."
The arrival of Ivan Ogareff, which had given Jolivet and
Blount their liberty, was to Michael Strogoff, on the con-
trary, a serious danger. Should chance bring the czar's
courier into Ogareff's presence, the latter could not fail to
208 MICHAEL STROGOFF.
recognize in him the traveler whom he had so brutally
treated at the Ishim post-house, and although Michael had
not replied to the insult as he would have done under any
other circumstances, attention would be drawn to him, and
at once the accomplishment of his plans would be rendered
more difficult.
This was the unpleasant side of the business. A favor-
able result of his arrival, however, was the order which was
given to raise the camp that very day and remove the head-
quarters to Tomsk.
This was the accomplishment of Michael's most fervent
desire. His intention, as has been said, was to reach Tomsk
concealed among the other prisoners; that is to say, with-
out any risk of falling into the hands of the scouts who
swarmed about the approaches to this important town.
However, in consequence of the arrival of Ivan Ogarerf,
and in the fear of being recognized by him, he questioned
whether it would not be better to give up his first plan and
attempt to escape during the journey.
Michael would no doubt have kept to the latter plan had
he not learned that Feofar-Khan and Ivan Ogareff had
already set out for the town at the head of some thousands
of horsemen.
" I will wait, then," said he to himself; " at least, unless
some exceptional opportunity for escape occurs. The
adverse chances are numerous on this side of Tomsk,
while beyond the favorable increase, since I shall in a
few hours have passed the most advanced Tartar posts to
the east. Still three days of patience, and may God
aid me!"
It was indeed a journey of three days which the
prisoners, under the guard of a numerous detachment of
Tartars, were to make across the steppe. A hundred and
fifty versts lav between the camp and bhe town— an easy
march for the emir's soldiery who wanted for nothing, but
CO R U IMP ON J) ENTS IN TRO UBLE. 209
a wretched journey for these unhappy people, enfeebled by
privations. More than one corpse would show the road
they had traversed.
It was two o'clock in the afternoon on the 12th of
August, under a hot sun and cloudless sky, that the
toptschi-baschi gave the order to start.
Alcide and Blount, having bought horses, had already
taken the road to Tomsk, where events were to reunite the
principal personages of this story.
Among the prisoners brought by Ivan Ogareff to the
Tartar camp was an old woman whose taciturnity seemed
to keep her apart from all those who shared her fate. Not
a murmur issued from her lips. She was like a statue of
grief. This woman was more strictly guarded than any
one else, and without her appearing to notice or even to
suspect was constantly watched by the Tsigane Sangarre.
Notwithstanding her age she was compelled to follow the
convoy of prisoners on foot, without any alleviation of her
suffering.
But a kind Providence had placed near her a courageous,
kind-hearted being to comfort and assist her. Among her
companions in misfortune a young girl, remarkable for her
beauty and a taciturnity equal to that of the Siberian,
seemed to have given herself the task of watching over her.
No words had been exchanged between the two captives,
but the girl was always found at the old woman's side just
when her help was useful. At first the mute assistance of
the stranger was not accepted without some mistrust.
Gradually, however, the young girl's clear glance, her
reserve, and the mysterious sympathy which draws together
those who are in misfortune thawed Marfa Strogoff's
coldness.
Nadia — for it was she — was thus able, without knowing
it, to render to the mother those attentions which she had
herself received from the son. Her instinctive kindness
210 MICHAEL STBOQOFR
had doubly inspired her. In devoting herself to her serv-
ice, Nadia secured to her youth and beauty the protection
afforded by the age of the old prisoner.
On the crowd of unhappy people, embittered by suffer-
ings, this silent pair — one seeming to be the grandmother,
the other the granddaughter — imposed a sort of respect.
After being carried off by the Tartar scouts on the Irtish,
Nadia had been taken to Omsk. Kept prisoner in the
town, she shared the fate of all those captured by Ivan
Ogareff, and consequently that of Marfa Strogoff.
If Nadia had been less energetic she would have suc-
cumbed to this double blow. The interruption to her
journey, the death of Michael, made her both desperate
and excited. Divided, perhaps forever, from her father,
after so many happy efforts had brought them nearer to-
gether, and, to crown her grief, separated from the intrepid
companion whom God seemed to have placed in her way to
lead her, at the same time and with the same blow she had
lost all. The image of Michael Strogoff, struck before her
eyes with a lance and disappearing beneath the waters of
the Irtish, never left her thoughts.
Could such a man have died thus? For whom was God
reserving his miracles if this good man, whom a noble ob-
ject was urging onward, had been allowed to perish so mis-
erably? Then anger would prevail over grief. The scene
of the affront so strangely borne by her companion at the
Ishim relay returned to her memory. Her blood boiled at
the recollection.
" Who will avenge him who can no longer avenge him-
self?" she said.
And in her heart she cried:
"May it be I!"
If before his death Michael had confided his secret to
her, woman, ay, girl though she was, she might have been
able to carry to a successful conclusion the interrupted
CORRESPONDENTS IN TROUBLE. 211
task of that brother whom God had so soon taken from
her.
Absorbed in these thoughts, it can be understood how
Nadia could remain insensible to the miseries even of her
captivity.
Thus chance had united her to Marfa Strogoff without
her having the least suspicion of who she was. How could
she imagine that this old woman, a prisoner like herself,
was the mother of her companion, whom she only knew as
the merchant Nicholas Korpanoff? And on the other
hand, how could Marfa guess that a bond of gratitude con-
nected this young stranger with her son?
The thing that first struck Nadia in Marfa Strogoff was
the similarity in the way in which each bore her hard fate.
This stoicism of the old woman under the daily hardships,
this contempt of bodily suffering, could only be caused by a
moral grief equal to her own. So Nadia thought; and
she was not mistaken. It was an instinctive sympathy for
that part of her misery which Marfa did not show which
first drew Nadia toward her. This way of bearing her sor-
row went to the proud heart of the young girl. She did
not offer her services; she gave them. Marfa had neither
to refuse nor accept them. In the difficult parts of the
journey the girl was there to support her. When the pro-
visions were given out the old woman would not have
moved, but Nadia shared her small portion with her; and
thus this painful journey was performed. Thanks to her
young companion, Marfa Strogoff was able to follow the
soldiers who guarded the prisoners without being fastened
to a saddle-bow, as were many other unfortunate wretches
and thus dragged along this road of sorrow.
" May God reward you, my daughter, for what you have
done for my old age!v said Marfa Strogoff once, and for
some time these were the only words exchanged between
the two unfortunate beings.
•» 1 • ) M1C1L I EL STROG OFF.
During these few day?, which to them appeared like
centuries, it would seem that the old woman and the girl
would have been led to speak of their situation. But
Marfa Strogoff, from a caution which may be easily under-
stood, never spoke about herself except with the greatest
brevity. She never made the smallest allusion to her son
nor to the unfortunate meeting.
Nadia also, if not completely silent, spoke little.
One day her heart overflowed and she told, without con-
cealing anything, all the events which had occurred from
her departure from Wladimir to the death of Nicholas
Korpanoff. All that her young companion told intensely
interested the old Siberian.
"Nicholas Korpanoff!" said she. " Tell me again about
this Nicholas. I know only one man, one alone, among
all the youth of the time in whom such conduct would not
have astonished me. Nicholas Korpanoff ! Was that really
his name? Are you sure of it, my daughter T9
" Why should he have deceived me in this," replied
Nadia, " when he deceived me in no other way?"
Moved, however, by a kind of presentiment, Marfa
Strogoff put questions upon questions to Nadia.
' ' You told me he was fearless, my daughter. You have
proved that he has been so," said she.
"Yes, fearless indeed!" replied Nadia.
" It was just what my son would have done," said Marfa
to herself.
Then she resumed:
" Did you not say that nothing stopped him, nothing
astonished him; that he was so gentle in his strength that
you had a sister as well as a brother in him, and that he
watched over you like a mother?"
"Yes, yes, " said Nadia. "Brother, sister, mother — he
has been all to me!"
"And defended you like a lion?"
CORRESPONDENTS! IN TllOUBLE. 213
"A lion indeed !" replied Nadia. "Yes; a lion, a
hero!"
"My son, my son!" thought the old Siberian. "But
you said, however, that he bore a terrible insult at that
post-house in Ishim?"
"He did bear it," answered Nadia, looking down.
"He bore it!" murmured Marfa, shuddering.
"Mother, mother," cried Nadia, "do not blame him!
He had a secret — a secret of which God alone is as yet the
judge!"
"And," said Marfa, raising her head and looking at
Nadia as though she would read the depths of her heart,
" in that hour of humiliation did you not despise this
Nicholas Korpanoff?"
"I admired without understanding him," replied the
girl. " I never felt him more worthy of respect."
The old woman was silent for a minute.
" Was he tall?" she asked.
"Very tall."
" And very handsome, was he not? Come, speak, my
daughter. "
" He was very handsome," replied Nadia, blushing.
" It was my son! I tell you it was my son!" exclaimed
the old woman, embracing Nadia.
" Your son!" said Nadia, amazed; "your son!"
" Come," said Marfa, " let us get to the bottom of this,
my child. Your companion, your friend, your protector
had a mother. Did he never speak to you of his mother?"
" Of his mother?" said Nadia. " He spoke to me of his
mother as I spoke to him of my father — often, always. He
adored her."
"Nadia, Nadia, you have just told me about my own
son," said the old woman.
And she added impetuously:
" Was he not going to see this mother, whom you say he
loved, on his way through Omsk?"
214 MICHAEL STROGOFF.
" No," answered Nadia, " no, he was not."
" Not r cried Marfa. " You dare to tell me not!"
" I say so; but it remains to me to tell you that from
motives which outweighed everything else, motives which
I do not know, I understand that Nicholas Korpanoff had
to traverse the country completely in secret. To him it
was a question of life and death, and still more, a question
of duty and honor."
"Duty, indeed, imperious duty," said the old Siberian,
"of those who sacrifice everything, for the accomplish-
ment of which they refuse everything; even the joy of giv-
ing a kiss, perhaps the last, to his old mother. All that
you do not know, Nadia — all that I did not know myself —
I now know. You have made me understand everything.
But the light which you have thrown on the mysteries of
my heart I cannot return on yours. Since my son has
not told you his secret, I must keep it for him. Forgive
me, Nadia. I can never repay what you have done for
me."
" Mother, I ask you nothing," replied Nadia.
All was thus explained to the old Siberian, all, even the
inexplicable conduct of her son with regard to herself in
th^ inn at Omsk, in presence of the witnesses of their
meeting. There was no doubt that the young girPs com-
panion was Michael StrogorT, and that a secret mission,
some important dispatch to be carried across the invaded
country, obliged him to conceal his quality of the czar's
courier.
" Ah, my brave boy!" thought Marfa. "No, I will not
betray you, and tortures shall not wrest from me the avowal
that it was you whom I saw at Omsk."'
Marfa could with a word have paid Nadia for all her de-
votion to her. She could have told her that her compan-
ion, Nicholas Korpanolf, or rather Michael Strogoff, had
not perished in the waters of the Irtish, since it was some
CORRESPONDENTS IN TROUBLE. 215
days after that incident that she had met him, that she
had spoken to him.
But she restrained herself, she was silent, and contented
herself with saying:
" Hope, my child! Misfortune will not overwhelm you.
You will see your father again; I feel it; and perhaps he
who gave you the name of sister is not dead. God cannot
have allowed your brave companion to perish. Hope, my
child, hope! Do as I do. The mourning which I wear is
not yet for my son."
ojf; MICHAEL STROGOFF.
CHAPTER III.
BLOW FOR BLOW.
Such were now the relative situations of Marfa Strogoff
and Nadia. All was understood by the old Siberian, and
though the young girl was ignorant that her much-regret-
ted companion still lived, she at least knew his relationship
to her whom she had made her mother; and she thanked
God for having given her the joy of takiug the place of the
son whom the prisoner had lost.
But what neither of them could know was that Michael,
having been captured at Kalyvan, was in the same convoy
and was on his way to Tomsk with them.
The prisoners brought by Ivan Ogareff had been added
to those already kept by the emir in the Tartar camp.
These unfortunate people, consisting of Russians, Sibe-
rians, soldiers and civilians, numbered some thousands, and
formed a column which extended over several versts.
Some among them being considered dangerous were hand-
cuffed and fastened to along chain. There were, too, wom-
en and children, many of the latter suspended to the
pommels of the saddles, while the former were dragged
mercilessly along the road on foot or driven forward as if
they were animals. The horsemen escorting the prisoners
compelled them to maintain a certain order, and there
were no laggards with the exception of those who fell never
to rise again.
In consequence of this arrangement, Michael Strogoff,
marching in the first ranks of those who had left the Tar-
BLOW FOR BLOW. 217
tar camp — that is to say, among the Kalyvan prisoners —
was unable to mingle with the prisoners who had arrived
after him from Omsk. He had therefore no suspicion that
his mother and Nadia were present in the convoy, nor did
they suppose that he was among those in front. This
journey from the camp to Tomsk, performed under the
lashes and spear-points of the soldiers, proved fatal to many
and terrible to all. The prisoners traveled across the steppe
over a road made still more dusty by the passage of the
emir and his vanguard.
Orders had been given to march rapidly. The short
halts were rare. The hundred and fifty versts under a
burning sky seemed interminable, though they were per-
formed as rapidly as possible.
The country which extends from the right of the Obi to
the base of the spur detached from the Sayanok Mountains
is very sterile. Only a few stunted and burnt-up shrubs
here and there break the monotony of the immense plain.
There was no cultivation, for there was no water; and it
was water that the prisoners, parched by their painful
march, most needed. To find a stream they must have
diverged fifty versts eastward, to the very foot of the spur
which divides the waters between the basins of the Obi and
Yenisei.
There flows the Tom, a little affluent of the Obi which
passes near Tomsk before losing itself in one of the great
northern arteries. There water would have been abundant,
the steppe less arid, the heat less severe. But the strictest
orders had been given to the commanders of the convoy to
reach Tomsk by the shortest way, for the emir was much
afraid of being taken in the flank and cut off by some Rus-
sian column descending from the northern provinces.
Now the Siberian high-road did not lie along the banks of
the Tom, at least in the part between Kalyvan and a little
village called Zabediero, and it was necessary to follow the
high-road.
218 MICHAEL STROGOFF
It is useless to dwell upon the sufferings of the unhappy
prisoners. Many hundreds fell on the steppe, where their
bodies would lie until winter, when the wolves would de-
vour the remnants of their bones.
As Nadia helped the old Siberian, so in the same way
did Michael render to his more feeble companions in mis-
fortune such services as his situation allowed. He encour-
aged some, supported others, going to and fro, until a prick
from a soldier's lance obliged him to resume the place which
had been assigned him in the ranks.
Why did he not endeavor to escape?
The reason was that he had now quite determined not
to venture until the steppe was safe for him. He was re-
solved in his idea of going as far as Tomsk " at the emir's
expense," and indeed he was right. As he observed the
numerous detachments which scoured the plain on the
convoy's flanks, now to the south, now to the north, it was
evident that before he could have gone two versts he must
have been recaptured. The Tartar horsemen swarmed — it
actually appeared as if they sprang from the earth — like
insects which a thunder-storm brings to the surface of the
ground. Flight under these conditions would have been
extremely difficult, if not impossible. The soldiers of the
escort displayed excessive vigilance, for they would have
paid for the slightest carelessness with their heads.
At nightfall of the loth of August the convoy reached
the little village of Zabediero, thirty versts from Tomsk.
Here the road joins the Tom.
The prisoners' first movement would have been to rush
into the river, but they were not allowed to leave the
ranks until the halt had been organized. Although the
current of the Tom was just now like a torrent, it might
have favored the flight of some bold or desperate man. and
the strictest measures of vigilance were taken. Boats,
!»'<iuisitioned at Zabediero, were brought up the Tom
BLOW FOR BLOW. 219
and formed a line of obstacles impossible to pass. As to
the encampment on the outskirts of the village, it was
guarded by a cordon of sentinels.
Michael Strogoff, who now naturally thought of escape,
saw, after carefully surveying the situation, that under
these conditions it was perfectly impossible; so, not wish-
ing to compromise himself, he waited.
The prisoners were to camp for the whole night on the
banks of the Tom, for the e^iir had put off the entrance of
his troops into Tomsk. It had been decided that a mili-
tary fete should mark the inauguration of the Tartar head-
quarters in this important city. Feofar-Khan already oc-
cupied the fortress, but the bulk of his army bivouacked
under its walls, waiting until the time came for them to
make a solemn entry.
Ivan Ogareff left the emir at Tomsk, where both had
arrived the evening before, and returned to the camp at
Zabediero. From here he was to start the next day with
the rear-guard of the Tartar army. A house had been ar-
ranged for him in which to pass the night. At sunrise
horse and foot soldiers were to proceed to Tomsk, where
the emir wished to receive them with the pomp usual to
Asiatic sovereigns. As soon as the halt was organized the
prisoners, worn out with their three days' journey and suf-
fering from burning thirst, could drink and take a little
rest. The sun had already set, when Nadia, supporting
Marfa Strogoff, reached the banks of the Tom. They had
not till then been able to get through those who crowded
the banks, but at last they came to drink in their turn.
The old woman bent over the clear stream, and Nadia,
plunging in her hand, carried it to Maria's lips. Then she
refreshed herself. They found new life in these welcome
waters.
Suddenly Nadia started up; an involuntary cry escaped
her.
220 MICHAEL STROGOFF.
Michael Strogoff was there, a few steps from her. It
was he. The dying rays of the sun fell upon him.
At Nadia's cry Michael started. But he had sufficient
command over himself not to utter a word by which he
might have been compromised. And yet when he saw
Nadia he also recognized his mother.
Feeling he could not long keep master of himself at this
unexpected meeting, he covered his eyes with his hands
and walked quickly away.
Nadia's impulse was to run after him, but the old Sibe-
rian murmured in her ear:
"Stay, my daughter!"
"It is he!" replied Xadia, choking with emotion. "He
lives, mother! It is he!"
"It is my son," answered Marf a; "it is Michael Stro-
goff, and you see that I do not make a step toward him!
Imitate me, my daughter."
Michael had just experienced the most violent emotion
which a man can feel. His mother and Xadia were there!
The two prisoners who were always together in his heart
God had brought together in this common misfortune.
Did Nadia know who he was? Yes, for he had seen
Marfa's gesture, holding her back as she was about to rush
toward him. Marfa, then, had understood all and kept
his secret.
During that night Michael was twenty times on the point
of looking for and joining his mother; but he knew that
he must resist the longing he felt to take her in his arms
and once more press the hand of his young companion.
The least imprudence might be fatal. He had besides
sworn not to see his mother — he would not see her volun-
tarily. Once at Tomsk, since lie could not escape this
very night, he would set off across the steppe without hav-
ing even embraced the two beings in whom all the happi-
- of his life was centered and whom he should leave ex-
ed to so many perils.
BLOW FOR BLOW. 221
Michael hoped that this fresh meeting at the Zabediero
camp would have no disastrous consequences either to his
mother or to himself. But he did not know that part of
this scene, although it passed so rapidly, had been observed
by Sangarre, Ogareff s spy.
The Tsigane was there, a few paces off, on the bank, as
usual, watching the old Siberian woman without being in
the least suspected by her. She had not caught sight of
Michael, for he disappeared before she had time to look
round; but the mother's gesture as she kept back Nadia
had not escaped her, and the look in Marfa's eyes told her
all.
It was now beyond doubt that Marfa Strogoff s son, the
czar's courier, was at this moment in Zabediero, among
Ivan Ogareff's prisoners.
Sangarre did not know him, but she knew that he was
there. She did not then attempt to dicover him, for it
would have been impossible in the dark and the immense
crowd.
As for again watching Nadia and Marfa Strogoff, that
was equally useless. It was evident that the two women
would keep on their guard, and it would be impossible to
overhear anything of a nature to compromise the courier
of the czar. The Tsigane's first thought was to tell Ivan
Ogareff. She therefore immediately left the encampment.
A quarter of an hour after she reached Zabediero and
was shown into the house occupied by the emir's lieuten-
ant.
Ogareff received the Tsigane directly.
" What have you to tell me, Sangarre?" he asked.
' 'Marfa Strogoff' s son is in the encampment/' answered
Sangarre.
" A prisoner?"
" A prisoner."
u Ah!" exclaimed Ogareff. " I shall know "
222 MICHAEL STROGOFF.
" You will know nothing, Ivan/' replied the Tsigane,
" for you do not even know him by sight."
"But you know him — you have seen him, Sangarre?"
" I have not seen him, but his mother betrayed herself
by a gesture which told me everything."
" Are you not mistaken?"
" I am not mistaken."
"You know the importance which I attach to the ap-
prehension of this courier," said Ivan Ogareff. ," If the
letter which he has brought from Moscow reaches Irkutsk,
if it is given to the grand duke, the grand duke will be on
his guard and I shall not be able to get at him. I must
have that letter at any price. Now you come to tell me
that the bearer of this letter is in my power. I repeat,
Sangarre, are you not mistaken?"
Ogareff spoke with great animation. His emotion
showed the extreme importance he attached to the posses-
sion of this letter. Sangarre was not at all put out by the
urgency with which Ogareff repeated his question.
{i I am not mistaken, Ivan," she said.
" But, Sangarre, there are thousands of prisoners in the
camp, and you say that you do not know Michael Stro-
gofl."
" No," answered the Tsigane, with a look of savage joy,
" I do not know him, but his mother knows him. Ivan,
we must make his mother speak."
" To-morrow she shall speak!" cried Ogareff.
So saying, he extended his hand to the Tsigane, who
kissed it; for there is nothing servile in this act of respect,
it being usual among the Northern races.
Sangarre returned to the camp. She found out Nadia
and Marfa Strogoff and passed the night in watching them.
Although worn out with fatigue, the old woman and the
girl did not sleep. Their great anxiety kept them awake.
Michael was living, but a prisoner as they were. Did
BLO W FOB BLO W. 223
Ogareff know him, or if he did not, would he not soon find
him out? Nadia was occupied by the one thought that he
whom she had thought dead still lived. But Marfa saw
further into the future; and although she did not care
what became of herself, she had every reason to fear for
her son. /
Sangarre, under cover of the night, had crept near the
two women and remained there several hours listening.
She heard nothing. From an instinctive feeling of pru-
dence not a word was exchanged between Nadia and Marfa
Strogoff. The next day, the 16th of August, about ten in
the morning, trumpet-calls resounded throughout the en-
campment. The Tartar soldiers were almost immediately
under arms.
Ivan Ogareff, having left Zabediero, arrived, surrounded
by a large staff of Tartar officers. His face was more
clouded than usual, and his knitted brow gave signs of
latent wrath which was waiting only for an occasion to
break forth.
Michael Strogoff, hidden in a group of prisoners, saw
this man pass. He had a presentiment that some catas-
trophe was imminent, for Ivan Ogareff knew now that
Marfa was the mother of Michael Strogoff, captain in the
corps of the czar's couriers.
Ivan Ogareff, having reached the center of the camp,
dismounted, and his escort cleared a large circle round
him.
Just then Sangarre approached him and said :
" I have no news for you, Ivan."
Ivan Ogareff's only reply was to give an order to one of
his officers.
Then the ranks of prisoners were brutally hurried up by
the soldiers. The unfortunate people, driven on with
whips or pushed on with the butt-ends of the lances, kept
rising again in haste and arranged themselves round the
224: MICHAEL STROGOFF.
camp. A strong guard of soldiers, both foot and horse,
drawn up behind, rendered escape impossible.
Silence then ensued, and on a sign from Ivan Ogareff
Sangarre advanced toward the group in the midst of which
stood Marfa.
The old Siberian saw her companion. She knew what
was going to happen. A scornful smile passed over her
face. Then leaning toward Xadia she said in a low tone:
" You know me no longer, my daughter. Whatever
may happen and however hard this trial may be, not a
word, not a sign. It concerns him and not me."
At that moment Sangarre, having regarded her for an
instant, put her hand on her shoulder.
" What do you want with me?" said Marfa.
" Come!" replied Sangarre.
And pushing the old Siberian before her, she took
her before Ivan Ogareff, in the middle of the cleared
ground.
Michael cast down his eyes, that their angry flashings
might not appear.
Marfa, standing before Ivan Ogareff, drew herself up,
crossed her arms on her breast, and waited.
" You are Marfa Strogoff ?" asked Ogareff.
" Yes," replied the old Siberian calmly.
" Do you retract what you said to me when, three days
ago, I interrogated you at Omsk?"
"No!"
"Then you do not know that your son, Michael Strogoff,
courier of the czar, has passed through Omsk?"
"I do not know it,"
1 ' And the man in whom you thought you recognized
your son was not he — was not your son?"
tc He was not my son."
" And since then you have not seen him among the
prisoners?"
BLO W FOR BLO W. 225
"No."
"And if he were pointed out would you recognize
him?"
"No."
On this reply, which showed a determined resolution to
acknowledge nothing, a murmur was heard among the
crowd.
Ogareff could not restrain a threatening gesture.
" Listen/' said he to Marfa; "your son is here and you
shall immediately point him out to me."
"No."
" All these men taken at Omsk and Kalyvan will defile
before you, and if you do not show me Michael Strogoff,
you shall receive as many blows of the knout as men shall
have passed before you."
Ivan Ogareff saw that whatever might be his threats,
whatever might be the tortures to which he submitted her,
the indomitable Siberian would not speak. To discover
the courier of the czar, he counted, then, not on her, but
on Michael himself. He did not believe it possible that
when mother and son were in each other's presence some
involuntary movement would not betray him. Of course,
had he only wished to seize the imperial letter, he would
simply have given orders to search all the prisoners; but
Michael might have destroyed the letter, having learned its
contents, and if he were not recognized, if he were to reach
Irkutsk, all Ivan Ogareff s plans would be baffled. It was
thus not only the letter which the traitor must have, but
the bearer himself.
Nadia had heard all, and she now knew who was Michael
Strogoff and why he had wished to cross, without being
recognized, the invaded provinces of Siberia.
On an order from Ivan Ogareff the prisoners defiled, one
by one, pa^t Marfa, who remained immovable as a statue
and whose face expressed only perfect indifference.
226 MICHAEL STMOOOFF.
Her son was among the last. When in his turn he
passed before his mother, Nadia shut her eyes that she
might not see him.
Michael was to all appearance unmoved, but the palms
of his hand bled under his nails, which were pressed into
them.
Ivan Ogareff was baffled by mother and son.
Sangarre, close to him, said one word only:
" The knout I"
" Yes," cried Ogareff, who could no longer restrain him-
self; " the knout for this wretched old woman — the knout
to the death !"
A Tartar soldier bearing this terrible instrument of tor-
ture approached Marfa.
The knout is composed of a certain number of leathern
thongs, at the end of which are attached pieces of twisted
iron wire. It is reckoned that a sentence to one hundred
and twenty blows of this whip is equivalent to a sentence
of death.
Marfa knew it, but she knew also that no torture would
make her speak and that she was sacrificing her life.
Marfa, seized by two soldiers, was forced on her knees
on the ground. Her dress torn off left her back bare. A
saber was placed before her breast, at a few inches' distance
only. Directly she bent beneath her suffering her breast
was pierced by the sharp steel.
The Tartar drew himself up.
He waited.
"Begin!" said Ogareff.
The whip whistled through the air.
But before it fell a powerful hand stopped the Tartars
arm.
Michael was there. He had leaped forward at this hor-
rible scene. If at the relay at Ishim he had restrained
himself when Ogareff's whip had struck him, here before
BLOW FOR BLOW. 227
his mother, who was about to be struck, he could not mas-
ter himself.
Ivan Ogareff had succeeded.
"Michael Strogoff!" cried he.
Then advancing:
"Ah, the man of Ishim?"
" Himself!" said Michael.
And raising the knout he struck Ogareff across the face.
" Blow for blow!" said he.
" Well repaid!" cried a voice, happily concealed by the
tumult.
Twenty soldiers threw themselves on Michael, and in
another instant he would have been slain.
But Ogareff, who on being struck had uttered a cry of
rage and pain, stopped them.
" This man is reserved for the emir's judgment," said
he. " Search him!"
The letter with the imperial arms was found in Michael's
bosom; he had not had time to destroy it; it was handed
to Ogareff.
The voice which had pronounced the words "Well re-
paid!" was that of no other than Alcide Jolivet. His com-
panion and he, staying at the camp of Zabediero, were
present at the scene.
" Pardieu !" said he to Blount, " these are rough folk,
these Northern people. Acknowledge that we owe our
traveling companion a good turn. Korpanoff or Strogoff
is worthy of it. Oh, that was fine retaliation for the little
affair at Ishim."
"Yes, retaliation truly," replied Blount; "but Strogoff
is a dead man. I suspect that for his own interest, at all
events, it would have been better had he not possessed
quite so lively a recollection of the event."
" And let his mother perish under the knout?"
" Do you think that either she or his sister will be a bit
better off from this outbreak of his?"
228 MICHAEL STROGOFF.
" I do not know or think anything except that I should
have clone much the same in his position," replied Alcide.
"What a scar the colonel has received! Bah! one must
boil over sometimes. We should have had water in our
veins instead of blood had it been incumbent on us to be
always and everywhere unmoved to wrath."
"A neat little incident for our journals/' observed
Blount, " if only Ivan Ogareff would let us know the con-
tents of that letter."
Ivan Ogareff, when he had stanched the blood which was
trickling down his face, had broken the seal. He read and
reread the letter deliberately, as if he was determined to
discover everything it contained.
Then having ordered that Michael, carefully bound and
guarded, should be carried on to Tomsk with the other
prisoners, he took command of the troops at Zabediero, and
amid the deafening noise of drums and trumpets he marched
toward the town where the emir awaited him.
THE TRIUMPHAL ENTRY. 229 *
CHAPTER IV.
THE TRIUMPHAL ENTRY.
Tomsk, founded in 1604, nearly in the heart of the Si-
berian provinces, is one of the most important towns in
Asiatic Russia. Tobolsk, situated above the sixtieth parallel,
Irkutsk, built beyond the hundredth meridian, have seen
Tomsk increase at their expense.
And yet Tomsk, as has been said, is not the capital
of this important province. It is at Omsk that the
governor-general of the province and the official world
reside. But Tomsk is the most considerable town of that
territory, bounded by the Altai Mountains, a range which
extends to the Chinese frontier of the Khalkas country.
Down the slopes of these mountains to the valley of the
Tom platina, gold, silver, copper, and auriferous lead
succeed each other. The country being rich, the town is
so likewise, for it is in the center of fruitful mines. In
the luxury of i ;s houses, its arrangements, and its equipages
it might rival the greatest European capitals. It is a city
of millionaires, enriched by the spade and pickax, and
though it has not the honor of being the residence of the
czar's representative, it can boast of including in the first
rank of its notables the chief of the merchants of the
town, the principal grantees of the imperial government's
mines.
Formerly Tomsk was thought to be at the end of the
world. It was a long journey for those who wished to go
there. Now it is a mere walk where the road is not
M MICHAEL STROGOFF.
sampled over by the feet of invaders. Soon even a
railway will be constructed which will unite it with Perm
by crossing the Urals.
Is Tomsk a pretty town? It must be confessed that
travelers are not agreed on this point.
Madame de Bourboulon, who stopped there a few days
luring her journey from Shanghai to Moscow, calls it an
unpicturesque locality. According to her, it is but an
insignificant town, with old houses of stone and brick,
narrow streets — differing much from those which are
usually found in great Siberian cities — dirty quarters
crowded chiefly with Tartars and in which are swarms of
quiet drunkards, "whose drunkenness even is apathetic, as
with all the nations of the North."
The traveler Henry Russel-Killough is positive in his
admiration of Tomsk. Is this because he saw in mid-
winter, under its snowy mantle, the town which Madame
de Bourboulon only visited during the summer? It is
possible, and confirms the opinion that certain cold
countries can only be appreciated in the cold season, as
certain hot countries in the hot season.
However this may be, Mr. Russel-Killough says posi-
tively that Tomsk is not only the prettiest town in Siberia,
but is one of the prettiest towns in the world; its houses
adorned with columns and perist\Tles, its wooden side paths,
its wide and regular streets, and its fifteen magnificent
churches reflected in the waters of the Tom, larger than
any river in France.
The truth is something between these two opinions.
Tomsk, which contains twenty-five thousand inhabitants,
is picturesquely built on a long hill, the slope of which is
somewhat steep.
But even the prettiest town in the world would become
ugly when occupied by invaders.
Who would wish to admire it then? Defended by a
-THE TRIUMPHAL ENTRY. 231
few battalions of foot Cossacks, who resided permanently
there, it had not been able to resist the attack of the emir's
columns. A part of the population, of Tartar origin, had
given a friendly reception to these hordes — Tartars like
themselves — and for the time Tomsk seemed to be no
more Siberian than if it had been transported into the
middle of the khanats of Khokhand or Bokhara.
At Tomsk the emir was to receive his victorious troops.
A festival, with songs and dances, followed by some noisy
orgies, was to be given in their honor.
The place chosen with Asiatic taste for this ceremony
was a wide plateau situated on a part of the hill over-
looking, at some hundred feet distance, the course of the
Tom. The long perspective of elegant mansions and
churches with their green cupolas, the windings of the
river, the whole scene bathed in warm mists, appeared as
it were in a frame formed by groups of pines and gigantic
cedars.
To the left of the plateau a brilliant scene representing
a palace of strange architecture — no doubt some specimen
of the Bokharian monuments, half Moorish, half Tartar —
had been temporarily erected on wide terraces. Above the
palace and the minarets with which it bristled, among the
high branches of the trees which shaded the plateau, tame
storks, brought from Bokhara with the Tartar army, flew
about in thousands.
The terraces had been reserved for the emir's court,
the khans his allies, the great dignitaries of the khanats,
and the harems of each of these Turkestan sovereigns.
Of these sultanas, who are for the most part merely
slaves bought in the markets of transcaucasia and Persia,
some had their faces uncovered and others wore a veil
which concealed their features. All were dressed with
great magnificence. Handsome pelisses with short sleeves
allowed the bare arms to be seen, loaded with bracelets
*>32 MICHAEL STROOOFF.
connected b}7 chains of precious stones, and the little
hands, the finger-nails being tinted with the juice of the
henna. Some of these pelisses were made of silk fine as
a spider's web; others of a flexible aladja, which is a
narrow-striped texture of cotton; and at the least move-
ment they made that rustle so agreeable in the ears of an
Oriental. Under this first garment were brocaded petti-
coats, covering the silken trousers, which were fastened a
little above neat boots, well shaped and embroidered with
pearls. Some of the women whose features were not con-
cealed by veils might have been admired for their long
plaited hair, escaping from beneath their various-colored
turbans, their splendid eyes, their magnificent teeth, their
dazzling complexions, heightened by the blackness of the
eyebrows, connected hj a slight line, and the eyelashes
touched with a little black lead.
At the foot of the terraces, gay with standards and pen-
nons, watched the emir's own guards, armed with curved
sabers, daggers in their belts, and lances six feet long in
their hands. A few of these Tartars carried white sticks,
others enormous halberds ornamented with tufts of gold
and silver thread.
All around over this vast j)lateau, as far as the steep
slopes the bases of which were washed by the Tom, was
massed a crowd composed of all the native elements of
Central Asia. Usbecks were there, with their tall caps of
black sheepskin, their red beards, their gray eyes, and their
arkalouk, a sort of tunic cut in the Tartar fashion. There
thronged Turcomans dressed in the national costume — wide
trousers of a bright color, with vest and mantle woven of
camel's-hair; red caps, conical or wide; high boots of Rus-
sian leather; and saber knife hung at the waist by a thong.
There, near their masters, appeared the Turcoman women,
their hair lengthened by cords of goat's-hair; the chemi-
sette open under the djouba, striped with blue, purple, and
TUE TRIUMPHAL ENTRY. 233
green; the legs laced with colored bands, crossing each
other to the leathern clog. There, too — as if all the Russian-
Chinese frontier had risen at the emir's voice — might be
seen Mandchoux, faces shaven, matted hair, long robes,
sash confining the silken skirt at the waist, and oval caps
of crimson satin, with black border and red fringe; and
with them splendid specimens of the women of Mandchou-
ria, wearing coquettish head-dresses of artificial flowers,
kept in their places by gold pins and butterflies lightly laid
on their black hair. Lastly, Mongols, Bokharians, Per-
sians, and Turkestan-Chinese completed the crowd invited
to the Tartar festival.
Siberians alone were wanting in this reception of the in-
vaders. Those who had not been able to fly were confined
to their houses, in dread of the pillage which Feofar-Khan
would perhaps order to worthily terminate this triumphal
ceremony.
At four o'clock the emir made his entry into the square
greeted by a flourish of trumpets, the rolling sound of the
big drums, salvoes of artillery and musketry.
Feofar mounted his favorite horse, which carried on
its head an aigrette of diamonds. The emir still wore his
uniform.
He was accompanied by a numerous staff, and beside him
walked the khans of Khokhand and Koondooz and the
grand dignitaries of the khanats.
At the same moment appeared on the terrace the chief
of Feofar's wives, the queen, if this title may be given to
the sultana of the states of Bokhara. But, queen or slave,
this woman of Persian origin was wonderfully beautiful.
Contrary to the Mohammedan custom, and no doubt by
some caprice of the emir, she had her face uncovered. Her
hair, divided into four plaits, fell over her dazzling white
shoulders, scarcely concealed by a veil of silk worked in
gold, whicli fell from the back of a cap studded with gems
234 MICHAEL STROGOFF.
of the highest value. Under her blue silk petticoat, striped
with a darker shade, fell the zirdjameh of silken gauze, and
above the sash lay the pirahn of the same texture, sloping
gracefully to the neck. But from the head to the little
feet, incased in Persian slippers, such was the profusion of
jewels — gold beads strung on silver threads, chaplets of
turquoises firouzehs from the celebrated mines of Elbourz,
necklaces of cornelians, agates, emeralds, opals, and sap-
phires— that her dress seemed to be literally made of pre-
cious stones. The thousands of diamonds which sparkled
on her neck, arms, hands, at her waist, and at her feet
might have been valued at almost countless millions of
roubles.
The emir and the khans dismounted, as did the digni-
taries who escorted them. All entered a magnificent tent
erected on the center of the first terrace. Before the tent,
as usual, the Koran was laid on the sacred table.
Feofar's lieutenant did not make them wait, and before
five o'clock the trumpets announced his arrival.
Ivan Ogarelf — the Scarred Cheek, as he was already
nicknamed — this time wearing the uniform of a Tartar
officer, dismounted before the emir's tent. He was ac-
companied by a party of soldiers from the camp at
Zabediero, who ranged up at the sides of the square, in
the middle of which a place for the sports was reserved. A
large scar could be distinctly seen cut obliquely across the
traitor's face.
Ogareff presented his principal officers to the emir, who,
without departing from the coldness which composed the
main part of his dignity, received them in a way which
satisfied them that they stood well in the good graces of
their chief.
At least so thought Harry Blount and Alcide Jolivet. the
two inseparables, now associated together in the chase after
news.. After leaving Zabediero they had proceeded rapidly
THE TRIUMPHAL ENTRY. 235
to Tomsk. The plan they had agreed upon was to leave
the Tartars as soon as possible, and to join a Russian regi-
ment and, if they could, to go with them to Irkutsk. All
that they had seen of the invasion, its burnings, its pillages,
its murders, had perfectly sickened them, and they longed
to be among the ranks of the Siberian army.
However, Jolivet had told his companion that he could
not leave Tomsk without making a sketch of the triumphal
entry of the Tartar troops, if it was only to satisfy his
cousin's curiosity, so Harry Blount had agreed to stay a
few hours; but the same evening they both intended to
take the road to Irkutsk, and being well mounted hoped to
distance the emir's scouts.
Alcide and Blount mingled therefore in the crowd, so as
to lose no detail of a festival which ought to supply them
with a hundred good lines for an article. They admired
the magnificence of Feofar-Khan, his wives, his officers,
his guards, and all the Eastern pomp, of which the
ceremonies of Europe can give not the least idea. But
they turned away with disgust when Ivan Ogareff presented
himself before the emir and waited with some impatience
for the amusements to begin.
" You see, my dear Blount," said Alcide, " we have
come too soon, like honest citizens who like to get their
money's worth. All this is before the curtain rises, and it
would have been better taste to arrive only for the ballet/'
"What ballet?" asked Blount.
" The compulsory ballet, to be sure. But see, the
curtain is going to rise."
Alcide Jolivet spoke as if he had been at the opera, and
taking his glass from its case, he prepared, with the air of
a connoisseur, "to examine the first act of Feofar's com-
pany."
But a painful ceremony was to precede the sports. In
fact, the triumph of the vanquisher could not be complete
236 MICHAEL STROGOFF.
without the public humiliation of the vanquished. This
was why several hundreds of prisoners were brought under
the soldiers' whips. They were destined to march past
Feofar-Khan and his allies before being crammed with
their companions into the prisons in the town.
In the first ranks of these prisoners figured Michael
Strogoff. As Ogareff had ordered, he was specially guarded
by a file of soldiers. His mother and Nadia were there
also.
The old Siberian, although energetic enough when her
own safety was in question, was frightfully pale. She ex-
pected some terrible scene. It was not without reason
that her son had been brought before the emir. She there-
fore trembled for him. Ivan Ogareff was not a man to
forgive having been struck in public by the knout, and his
vengeance would be merciless. Some frightful punishment
familiar to the barbarians of Central Asia would no doubt
be inflicted on Michael. Ogareff had protected him against
the soldiers because he well knew what would happen by
reserving him for the justice of the emir.
The mother and son had not been able to speak together
since the terrible scene in the camp at Zabediero. They
had been pitilessly kept apart — a bitter aggravation of their
misery, for it would have been some consolation to have
been together during these days of captivity. Marfa longed
to ask her son's pardon for the harm she had uninten-
tionally done him, for she reproached herself with not
having commanded her maternal feelings. If she had re-
strained herself in that post-house at Omsk, when she found
herself face to face with him, Michael would have passed
unrecognized and all these misfortunes would have been
avoided.
Michael, on his side, thought that if his mother was
there, if Ogareil had brought her with him, it was to make
her suffer with the sight of his own punishment, or perhaps
THE TRIUMPHAL ENTRY. 237
some frightful death was reserved for her as well as for
himself.
As to Nadia, she only asked herself how she could save
them both, how come to the aid of son and mother. As
yet she could only wonder, but she felt instinctively that
she must above everything avoid drawing attention upon
herself; that she must conceal herself — make herself in-
significant. Perhaps she might at least gnaw through the
meshes which imprisoned the lion. At any rate, if any
opportunity was given her she would seize upon it and sac-
rifice herself, if need be, for the son of Marfa Strogolf.
In the mean time the greater part of the prisoners were
passing before the emir, and as they passed each was obliged
to prostrate himself, with his forehead in the dust, in
token of servitude. Slavery begins by humiliation. When
the unfortunate people were too slow in bending, the
rough hands of their guards threw them violently to the
ground.
Alcide Jolivet and his companion could not witness such
a sight without feeling indignant.
" It is cowardly — let us go," said Alcide.
"No," answered Blount; " we must see it all."
" See it all! — ah!" cried Alcide suddenly, grasping his
companion's arm.
" AVhat is the matter with you?" asked the latter.
" Look, Blount; it is she!"
"What she?"
" The sister of our traveling companion — alone and a
prisoner! We must save her."
" Calm yourself," replied Blount coolly. "Any inter-
ference on our part in behalf of the young girl would be
wore than useless."
Alcide Jolivet, who had been about to rush forward,
stopped, and Nadia — who had not perceived them, her
features being half-hidden by her hair — passed in her turn
before the emir without attracting his attention.
238 MICHAEL STROGOFF.
However, after Nadia came Marfa Strogoff; and as she
did not throw herself quickly in the dust, the guards bru-
tally pushed her.
She fell.
Her son struggled so violently that the soldiers who were
guarding him could scarcely hold him back.
But the old woman rose, and they were about to drag
her on, when Ogarefr* interposed, saying:
" Let that woman stay!"
As to Nadia, she happily regained the crowd of prison-
ers. Ivan OgarefT had taken no notice of her.
Michael was then led before the emir, and there he re-
mained standing, without casting down his eyes.
' ( Your forehead to the ground !" exclaimed Ivan Oga-
refT.
"ISTo!" answered Michael.
Two soldiers endeavored to make him bend, but they
were themselves laid on the ground by a buffet from the
young man's fist.
Orgareff approached Michael.
" You shall die!" he said.
"I can die," answered Michael fiercely; "but your
traitor's face, Ivan, will not the less carry forever the in-
famous brand of the knout!"
At this reply Ivan Ogareff became perfectly livid.
" Who is this prisoner?" asked the emir in a tone of voice
terrible from its very calmness.
" A Russian spy," answered Ogareff.
In asserting that Michael was a spy he knew that the
sentence pronounced against him would be terrible.
Michael had stepped up to Ogareff.
The soldiers stopped him.
The emir made a sign at which all the crowd bent low
their heads. Then he pointed with his hand to the Koran,
which was brought him. He opened the sacred book and
placed his finger on one of its pages.
THE TRIUMPHAL ENTRY, 239
It was chance, or rather, according to the ideas of these
Orientals, God himself who was about to decide the fate
of Michael Strogoff. The people of Central Asia give the
name of " fal " to this practice. After having interpreted
the sense of the verse touched by the judge's finger, they
apply the sentence, whatever it may be.
The emir had let his finger rest on the page of the Ko
ran. The chief of the Ulemas then approached and read
in a loud voice a verse which ended with these words:
" And he will no more see the things of this earth/'
"Russian spy!" exclaimed Feofar-Khan in a voice trem-
bling with fury, "you have come to see what is going on
in the Tartar camp. Then look while you may!"
240 MICHAEL STROGOFF.
CHAPTER V.
" LOOK WHILE YOU MAY!"
Michael was held before the emir's throne, at the foot
of the terrace, his hands bound behind his back. His
mother, overcome at last by mental and physical torture,
had sunk to the ground, daring neither to look nor listen.
" Look while you may!" exclaimed Feofar-Khan, stretch-
ing his arm roward Michael in a threatening manner.
Doubtless Ivan Ogareff, being well acquainted with Tar-
tar customs, had taken in the full meaning of these words,
for his lips curled for an instant in a cruel smile; he then
took his place by Feofar-Khan.
A trumpet-call was heard. This was the signal for the
amusements to begin.
"Here comes the ballet," said Alcide to Blount; " but,
contrary to our customs, these barbarians give it before the
drama."
Michael had been commanded to look at everything. He
looked.
' A troop of dancers poured into the open space before the
emir's tent. Different Tartar instruments — the doutare, a
long-handled guitar, made of mulberry wood, with two
strings of twisted silk tuned in fours; thekobize, a kind of
violoncello, partly open at the back, strung with horse-hair
and played with a bow; the tschibyzga, a long reed flute —
wind instruments, tom-toms, tambourines, united with the
deep voices of the singers, formed a strange harmony.
Added to this were the strains of an aerial orchestra, com-
" LOOK WHILE YOU MAY!" 241
posed of a dozen kites, which, fastened by strings to their
centers, resounded in the breeze like iEolian harps.
Then the dances began.
The performers were all of Persian origin; they were
no longer slaves, but exercised their profession at liberty.
Formerly they figured officially in the ceremonies at the
court of Teheran, but since the accession of the reigning
family, banished or treated with contempt, they had been
compelled to seek their fortune elsewhere. They wore the
national costume and were adorned with a profusion of
jewels. Little triangles of gold, studded with jewels,
glittered in their ears. Circles of silver, marked with
black, surrounded their necks and legs; pendants, rich-
ly ornamented with pearls, turquoises, and cornelians,
glistened at the end of their long braids of hair. The
belt which encircled the waist was fastened by a bright
buckle.
These performers gracefully executed various dances,
sometimes alone, sometimes in groups. Their faces were
uncovered, but from time to time they threw a light veil
over their heads, and a gauze cloud passed over their
bright eyes as smoke over a starry sky. Some of these
Persians wore leathern belts embroidered with pearls,
from which hung little triangular bags, with the points
downward, which they opened at a certain moment.
From these bags, embroidered with golden filagree, they
drew long narrow bands of scarlet silk, on which were
braided verses of the Koran. These bands, which they
held between them, formed a belt under which the other
dancers darted; and as they passed each verse, following
the precept it contained, they either prostrated themselves
on the earth or lightly bounded upward, as though to take
a place among the houris of Mohammed's heaven.
But what was remarkable and what struck Alcide was
that the Persians appeared rat her indolent than fiery.
242 MICHAEL STROOOFF.
Their passion had deserted them, and by the kind of
dances, as well as by their execution, they recalled rather
the calm and self-possessed nauch girls of India than the
impassioned dancers of Egypt.
When this was over a stern voice wras heard saying:
' ' Look while you may!"
The man who repeated the emir's words — a tall, spare
Tartar — was he wrho carried out the sentences of Feofar-
Khan against offenders. Pie had taken his place behind
Michael, holding in his hand a broad curved saber, one of
those Damascene blades which are forged by the cele-
brated armorers of Karschi or Hissar.
Behind him guards were carrying a tripod supporting
a chafing-dish filled with live coals. No smoke arose from
this, but a light vapor surrounded it, due to the incine-
ration of a certain aromatic and resinous substance which
had been thrown on the surface.
The Persians were succeeded by another party of
dancers, whom Michael immediately recognized.
The journalists also appeared to recognize them, for
Blount said to his companion:
" These are the Tsiganes of Nijni-Novgorod."
"No doubt of it," cried Alcide. "Their eyes, I im-
agine, bring more money to these spies than their legs."
In putting them down as agents in the emir's service,
Alcide Jolivet was, by all accounts, not mistaken.
In the first rank of the Tsiganes Sangarre appeared,
superb in her strange and picturesque costume, which set
off still further her remarkable beauty.
Sangarre did not dance, but she stood as a statue in the
midst of the performers, whose style of dancing was a
combination of that of all those countries through which
their race had passed — Turkey, Bohemia, Egypt, Italy,
and Spain. They were enlivened by the sound of cymbals,
which clashed on their arms, and by the hollow sounds
" LOOK WHILE YOU MA Y!" 243
of the da'ires — a sort of tambourine played with the
lingers.
Sangarre, holding one of these daires, which she played
between her hands, encouraged this troupe of veritable
corybantes.
A young Tsigane, of about fifteen years of age, then ad-
vanced. He held in his hand a doutare, the strings of
which he made to vibrate by a simple movement of the
nails. He sang. During the singing of each couplet, of
very peculiar rhythm, a dancer took her position by him
and remained there immovable, listening to him; but each
time that the burden came from the lips of the young singer
she resumed her dance, dinning in his ears with her dai're
and deafening him with the clashing of her cymbals. Then,
after the last chorus, the remainder surrounded the Tsigane
in the windings of their dance.
At that moment a shower of gold fell from the hands of
the emir and his train and from the hands of his officers of
all ranks; to the noise which the pieces made as they struck
the cymbals of the dancers, being added the last murmurs
of the doutares and tambourines.
" Lavish as robbers," said Alcide in the ear of his com-
panion. And in fact it was the result of plunder which was
falling, for with the Tartar tomans and sequins rained also
Kussian ducats and roubles.
Then silence followed for an instant, and the voice of the
executioner, who laid his hand on Michael's shoulder, once
more pronounced the words, which this repetition rendered
more and more sinister:
" Look while you may!"
But this time Alcide observed that the executioner no
longer held the saber bare in his hand.
Meanwhile the sun had sunk behind the horizon. A
semi-obscurity began to envelop the plain. The mass of
cedars and pines became blacker and blacker, and the
244 MICHAEL STROGOFF.
waters of the Tom, totally obscured in the distance, mingled
with the approaching shadows.
But at that instant several hundreds of slaves, bearing
lighted torches, entered the square. Led by Sangarre,
Tsiganes and Persians reappeared before the emir's throne
and showed off, by the contrast, their dances of styles so
different. The instruments of the Tartar orchestra sounded
forth in harmony still more savage, accompanied by the
guttural cries of the singers. The kites, which had fallen
to the ground, once more winged their way into the sky,
each bearing a parti-colored lantern, and under a fresher
breeze their harps vibrated with intenser sound in the midst
of the aerial illumination.
Then a squadron of Tartars, in their brilliant uniforms,
mingled in the dances, whose wild fury was increasing
rapidly, and then began a performance which produced a
very strange effect.
Soldiers now came on the ground, armed with bare sabers
and long pistols, and as they executed dances they made
the air reecho with the sudden detonations of their firearms,
which immediately set going the rumbling of the tam-
bourines, the grumblings of the daires, and the gnashing
of dou tares.
Their arms, covered with a colored powder of some me-
tallic ingredient, after the Chinese fashion, threw long jets
— red, green, and bine — so that the groups of dancers
seemed to be in the midst of fireworks. In some respects
this performance recalled the military dance of the ancients,
which took place in the midst of naked swords and daggers,
and it is possible that tradition has handed it down to the
people of Central Asia; but this Tartar dance was rendered
yet more fantastic by the colored fire which wound, ser-
pent-like, above the dancers, whose dresses seemed to be
embroidered with fiery hems. It was like a kaleidoscope
of sparks, whose1 infinite combinations varied at each move-
ment of the dancers.
"LOOK WHILE YOU MAY!" 245
Though it may be thought that a Parisian reporter would
be perfectly hardened to any scenic effect which our modern
ideas have carried so far, yet Alcide Jolivet could not
restrain a slight movement of the head, which at home,
between the Boulevard Montmartre and La Madeleine,
would have said — " Very fair, very fair."
Then suddenly, at a signal, all the lights of the fantasia
were extinguished, the dances ceased, and the performers
disappeared. The ceremony was over, and the torches
alone lighted up the plateau, which a few instants before
had been so brilliantly illuminated.
On a sign from the emir Michael was led into the
middle of the square.
" Blount," said Alcide to his companion, " are you going
to see the end of all this?"
" No, that I am not," replied Blount.
" The readers of the Daily Telegraph are, I hope, not
very eager for the details of an execution a la mode Tar-
tare?"
"No more than your cousin!"
"Poor fellow!" added Alcide as he watched Michael.
" That valiant soldier should have fallen on the field of
battle!"
" Can we do nothing to save him?" said Blount.
"Nothing!"
The reporters recalled Michael's generous conduct toward
them; they knew now through what trials he must have
passed, ever obedient to his duty; and in the midst of these
Tartars, to whom pity is unknown, they could do nothing
for him.
Having little desire to be present at the torture re-
served for the unfortunate man, they returned to the
town.
An hour later they were on the road to Irkutsk, for
it was among the Eussians that they intended to follow
240 MICHAEL 81R0Q0FF.
what Alcide called, by anticipation, " the campaign of
revenge."
Meantime Michael was standing ready, his eyes return-
ing the emir's haughty glance, while his countenance as-
sumed an expression of intense scorn whenever he cast his
looks on Ivan Ogareff. He was prepared to die, yet not a
single sign of weakness escaped him.
The spectators, waiting around the square, as well as
Feofar-Khan's body-guard, to whom this execution was
only one of the attractions, were eagerly expecting it.
Then, their curiosity satisfied, they would rush olf to enjoy
the pleasures of intoxication.
The emir made a sign. Michael, thrust forward by his
guards, took his place at the foot of the terrace, and then,
in the Tartar language, which he understood, Feofar said
to him:
" You came to see our goings out and comings in,
Russian spy. You have seen for the last time. In an
instant your eyes will be forever shut to the light of day."
Michael's fate was to be not death, but blindness; loss of
sight, more terrible perhaps than loss of life. The un-
happy man was condemned to be blinded.
However, on hearing the emir's sentence Michael's heart
did not grow faint. He remained unmoved, his eyes wide
open, as though he wished to concentrate his whole life
into one last look. To entreat pity from these savage men
would be useless; besides, it would be unworthy of him.
He did not even think of it. His thoughts were condensed
on his mission, which had apparently so completely failed;
on his mother, on Nadia, whom he should never more see!
But he let no sign appear of the emotion which he felt.
Then a feeling of vengeance to be accomplished came
over him.
" Ivan," said he in a menacing voice, "Ivan the Traitor,
the last menace of my eyes shall be for you!"
" LOOK WHILE YOU MAT!" 247
Ivan Ogareff shrugged his shoulders.
But Michael was mistaken. He was not to be looking
at Ivan when his eyes were put out.
Marfa Strogoff stood before him.
"My mother!" cried he. "Yes! yes! my last glance
shall be for you, and not for this wretch! Stay there, be-
fore me! Now I see once more your well-beloved face!
Now shall my eyes close as they rest upon it!"
The old woman, without uttering a word, advanced.
" Take that woman away!" said Ivan.
Two soldiers were about to seize her, but she stepped
back and remained standing a few paces from Michael.
The executioner appeared. This time he held his saber
bare in his hand, and this saber he had just drawn from the
chafing-dish on which the perfumed coals burned, where
he had brought it to a white heat.
Michael was going to be blinded in the Tartar fashion,
with a hot blade passed before his eyes!
Michael did not attempt to resist. Nothing existed be-
fore his eyes but his mother, whom his eyes seemed to de-
vour. All his life was in that last look.
Marfa Strogolf, her eyes open wide, her arms extended
toward where he stood, was gazing at him.
The incandescent blade passed before Michael's eyes.
A despairing cry was heard. His aged mother fell sense-
less to the ground.
Michael Strogoff was blind.
His orders executed, the emir retired with his train.
There remained in the square only Ivan Ogareff and the
torch-bearers.
Did the wretch intend to insult his victim yet further
and yet to give him a parting blow?
Ivan Ogareff slowly approached Michael, who, feeling
him coming, drew himself up. Ivan drew from his pocket
the imperial letter, opened it, and with supreme irony he
248 MICHAEL STROGOFF.
held it up before the sightless eyes of the czar's courier,
saying:
"Read, now, Michael Strogoff, read and go and repeat
at Irkutsk what you have read. The true courier of the
czar is Ivan Ogareff."
This said, the traitor thrust the letter into his breast.
Then without looking round he left the square, followed
bv the torch-bearers.
" Michael was left alone, at a few paces from his mother,
lying lifeless, perhaps dead.
He heard in the distance cries and songs, the varied
noises of a wild debauch. Tomsk, illuminated, glittered
and -gleamed like a city en fete.
Michael listened. The square was silent and deserted. ^
He went, groping his way, toward the place where his
mother had fallen. He found her with his hand, he bent
over her, he put his face close to hers, he listened for the
beating of her heart. Then he murmured a few words.
Did Maria still live and did she hear her son's words?
"Whether she did so or not, she made not the slightest move-
ment.
Michael kissed her forehead and her white locks. He
then raised himself, and groping with his foot, trying to
stretch out his hand to guide himself, he walked by degrees
to the edge of the square.
Suddenly Nadia appeared.
She walked straight to her companion. A knife in her
hand cut the cords which bound Michael's arms.
The blind man knew not who had freed him, for Nadia
had not spoken a word.
But this done:
" Brother!" said she.
"Nadia!" murmured Michael, "Nadia!"
" Come, brother," replied Nadia; "use my eyes while
yours sleep. I will lead you to Irkutsk."
A FE1MMV ON TEE EIGHWA 7. 249
CHAPTER VI.
A FRIEND ON THE HIGHWAY.
Half au hour afterward Michael and Nadia had left
Tomsk.
Many others of the prisoners were that night ahle to es-
cape from the Tartars, for officers and soldiers, all more or
less intoxicated, had unconsciously relaxed the vigilant
guard which they had hitherto maintained both at the
camp of Zabediero and while on the march. Nadia, after
having been carried off with the other prisoners, had been
able to escape and return to the square at the moment when
Michael was led before the emir. There, mingling with
the crowd, she had witnessed the terrible scene. Not a cry
escaped her when the scorching blade passed before her
companion's eyes. By her strength of will she kept mute
and motionless. A providential inspiration bade her re-
strain herself and retain her liberty that she might lead
Marfa's son to that goal which he had sworn to reach. Her
heart for an instant ceased to beat when the aged Siberian
woman fell senseless to the ground, but one thought re-
stored to her her former energy.
" I will be the blind man's dog," said she.
On OgarefFs departure Nadia had concealed herself in
the shade. She had waited till the crowd left the square.
Michael, abandoned as a wretched being from whom noth-
ing was to be feared, was alone. She saw him draw him-
self toward his mother, bend over her, kiss her forehead .
then rise and grope, his way in flight,
250 MICHAEL STltUUOFF.
A few instants later she and he, hand in hand, had de-
scended the steep slope, when, after having followed the
high banks of the Tom to the furthest extremity of the
town, they happily found a breach in the inclosure.
The road to Irkutsk was the only one which penetrated
toward the east. It could not be mistaken. It was possi-
ble that on the morrow, after some hours of carousal, the
scouts of the emir, once more scattering over the steppes,
might cut off all communication. It was of the greatest
importance, therefore, to get in advance of them, to reach
Krasnoiarsk before they could, which town was five hun-
dred versts from Tomsk, so that they might not be com-
pelled to leave the high-road sooner than they possibly
could help. How could Xadia bear the fatigues of that
night, from the 16th to the 17th of August? How could
she have found strength for so long a stage? How could
her feet, bleeding under that forced march, have carried
her thither? It is almost incomprehensible. But it is
none the less true that on the next morning, twelve hours
after their departure from Tomsk, Michael and she reached
the town of Semilowskoe after a journey of fifty versts.
Michael had not uttered a single word. It was not Xadia
who held his hand, it was he who held that of his compan-
ion during the whole of that night; but, thanks to that
trembling little hand which guided him, he had walked at
his ordinary pace.
Semilowskoe was almost entirely abandoned. The in-
habitants, fearing the Tartars, had fled to the province of
Yeniseisk. Not more than two or three houses were still
occupied. All that the town contained, useful or precious,
had been carried off in wagons.
However, Nadia was obliged to make a halt of a few
hours. They both required food and rest.
The young girl led her companion to the extremity of
the town. There they found an empty house, the door
A FRIEND ON THE HIGHWAY. 251
wide open. A rickety wooden bench stood in the middle
of the room, near the high stove which is to be found in
all Siberian houses. They silently seated themselves.
Nadia gazed in her companion's face as she had never be-
fore gazed. There was more than gratitude, more than
pity, in that look. Could Michael have seen her he would
have read in that sweet desolate gaze a world of devotion
and tenderness.
The eyelids of the blind man, made red by the heated
blade, fell half over his eyes. The pupils seemed to b<
singularly enlarged. The rich blue of the iris was darker
than formerly. The eyelashes and eyebrows were partly
burnt, but in appearance, at least, the old penetrating look
appeared to have undergone no change. If he could no
longer see, if his blindness was complete, it was because
the sensibility of the retina and optic nerve was radically
destroyed by the fierce heat of the steel.
Then Michael stretched out his hands.
"Are you there, Nadia?" he asked.
" Yes," replied the young girl; " I am close to you and
I will not go away from you, Michael."
At his name, pronounced by Nadia for the first time, a
thrill passed through Michael's frame. He perceived that
his companion knew all — who he was, what ties bound him
to Marfa.
"Nadia," replied he, "we must separate!"
"We separate? How so, Michael?"
"I must not be an obstacle to your journey. Yorr
father is waiting for you at Irkutsk. You must rejo:
your father."
" My father would curse me, Michael, were I to abandon
you now, after all you have done for me!"
"Nadia, Nadia," replied Michael, "you should think
only of your father."
"Michael," replied JSTadia, "you have more need of me
252 MICHAEL STROGOFF.
than my father. Do you mean to give up going to
Irkutsk?"
" Never!" cried Michael, in a tone which plainly showed
that none of his energy was gone.
" But you have not the letter!"
"That letter of which Ivan Ogareff robbed me? Well,
I shall manage without it, Nadia. They have treated
me as a spy. I will act as a spy. I will go and repeat at
Irkutsk all I have seen, all I have heard; I swear it by
Heaven above! The traitor shall meet me one day face to
face. But I must arrive at Irkutsk before. him."
"And yet you speak of our separating, Michael?"
" Nadia, the wretches have taken evervthmg from
me!"
"I have some roubles still, and my eyes. I can see
for you, Michael, and I will lead you thither, where you
could not go alone."
" And now shall we go?"
" On foot."
"And how shall we live?"
"By begging."
" Let us start, Nadia."
" Come, Michael."
The two young people no longer kept the names
"brother "and "sister." In their common misfortune
they felt still closer united. They left the house after an
hour's repose. Nadia had procured in the town some
morsels of tchornekhleb, a sort of barley bread, and a little
mead, called meod in Russia. This had cost her nothing,
for she had already begun her plan of begging. The bread
and mead had in some degree appeased Michael's hunger
and thirst. Nadia gave him the lion's share of this scanty
meal. He ate the pieces of bread his companion gave
him and drank from the gourd she held to his lips.
'• Are you eating, Nadia?" lie asked several times,
A FRIEND ON THE HIGIIWA 7. ^53
" Yes, Michael," invariably replied the y mng girl, who
contented herself with what her companion [eft.
Michael and Nadia quitted Semilowskoe and once more
set out on the laborious road to Irkutsk. Th3 girl bore
up in a marvelous way against fatigue. Hac1 Michael
seen her, perhaps he would not have had the courage to
go on. But Nadia never complained, and Michael, hear-
ing no sigh, walked at a speed he was unable to repress.
And why? Did he still expect to keep before the Tartars?
He was on foot, without money; he was blind, and if
Nadia, his only guide, were to be separated from him, he
could only lie down by the side of the road and there
perish miserably. But if, on the other hand, by energetic
perseverance he could reach Krasnoiarsk, all was perhaps
not lost, since the governor, to whom he would make him-
self known, would not hesitate to give him the means of
reaching Irkutsk.
Michael walked on, speaking little, absorbed in his own
thoughts. He held Nadia's hand. The two were in in-
cessant communication. It seemed to them that they had
no need of words to exchange their thoughts. From time
to time Michael said:
" Speak to me, Nadia."
" Why should I, Michael? We are thinking together,"
the young girl would reply, and contrived that her voice
should not betray her extreme fatigue.
But sometimes, as if her heart had ceased to beat for an
instant, her limbs tottered, her steps nagged, her arms fell
to her sides, she dropped behind. Michael then stopped;
he fixed his eyes on the poor girl as though he would try
to pierce the gloom which surrounded him; his breast
heaved; then, supporting his companion more than before,
he started on afresh.
However, amid these continual miseries, a fortunate cir-
cumstance on that day occurred which it appeared likely
254 MICHAEL STROGOFF.
would considerably mitigate their fatigues. They had been
walking from/Semilowskoe for two hours when Michael
stopped.
" Is ther^ no one on the road?" he asked.
" Not a/single soul," replied Nadia.
" Do tfou not hear some noise behind us? If they are
Tartars Ae must hide. Keep a good lookout!"
" Waifl Michael/' replied Nadia, going back a few steps
to where Ithe road turned to the right.
Michael waited alone for a minute, listening attentively.
Nadia returned almost immediately and said:
" It is a cart. A young man is leading it."
"Is he alone?"
"Alone."
Michael hesitated an instant. Should he hide, or should
he, on the contrary, try to find a place in the vehicle, if not
for himself, at least for her? For himself, he would be
quite content to lay one hand on the cart, to push it if
necessary, for his legs showed no sign of failing him; but
he felt sure that Nadia, compelled to walk ever since they
crossed the Obi, that is, for eight days, must be almost
exhausted.
He waited.
The cart was soon at the corner of the road. It was a
very dilapidated vehicle, known in the country as a kibitka,
just capable of holding three persons.
Usually the kibitka is drawn by three horses, but this
had but one, a beast with long hair and a very long tail. It
was of the Mongol breed, known for strength and courage.
A young man was leading it, with a dog beside him.
Nadia saw at once that the young man was Russian ; his
face was phlegmatic, but pleasant, and at once inspired
confidence. He did not appear to be in the slightest
hurry; he was not walking fast that he might spare his
horse, and to look at him it would not have been believed
A FRIEND ON THE HIGHWA 7. 255
that he was following a road which might at any instant
be swarming with Tartars.
Nadia, holding Michael by the hand, made way for the
vehicle.
The kibitka stopped and the driver smilingly looked at
the young girl.
" And where are you going to in this fashion?" he asked,
opening wide his great honest eyes.
At the sound of his voice, Michael said to himself that
he had heard it before. And it was satisfactory to him to
recognize the driver of the kibitka, for his brow at once
cleared.
" Well, where are you going?" repeated the young man,
addressing himself more directly to Michael.
( ' We are going to Irkutsk," he replied.
"Oh! little father, you do not know that there are still
versts and versts between you and Irkutsk?"
"I know it."
"And you are going on foot?"
"On foot."
"You, well! but the young lady?"
" She is my sister," said Michael, who judged it prudent
to give again this name to Nadia.
"Yes, your sister, little father! But, believe me, she
will never be able to get to Irkutsk!"
"Friend," returned Michael, approaching him, "the
Tartars have robbed us of everything and I have not a
kopeck to offer you, but if you will take my sister with you
I will follow your cart on foot. I will run when necessary;
I will not delay you an hour!"
"Brother," exclaimed Nadia, "I will not! I will not!
Sir, my brother is blind!"
"Blind!" repeated the young man, much moved.
"The Tartars have burnt out his eyes!" replied Nadia,
extending her hands as if imploring pity.
256 MICHAEL STROGOFF.
" Burnt out his eyes! Oh! poor little father! I am go-
ing to Krasnoiarsk. Well, why should not you and your
sister mount in the kibitka? By sitting a little close it
will hold us all three. Besides, my dog will not refuse to
go on foot; only I don't go fast, so as to spare my horse."
"Friend, what is your name?" asked Michael.
"'My name is Nicholas Pigassof."
" It is a name that I will never forget," said Michael.
" Well, jump up, little blind father. Your sister will be
beside you, in the bottom of the cart; I sit in front to
drive. There is plenty of good birch bark and barley
straw in the bottom; it's like a nest. Come, Serko, make
room!"
The dog jumped down without more telling. He was
an animal of the Siberian race, gray hair, of medium size,
with an honest big head, just made to pat, and he, more-
over, appeared to be much attached to his master.
In a moment more Michael and Nadia were seated in the
kibitka. Michael held out his hands as if to feel for those
of Nicholas Pigassof.
" You wish to shake my hands?" said Nicholas. " There
they are, little father! Shake them as long as it will give
you any pleasure."
The kibitka moved on; the horse, which Nicholas never
touched with the whip, ambled along. Though Michael
did not gain in speed, at least some fatigue was spared to
Nadia.
Such was the exhaustion of the young girl that, rocked
by the monotonous movement of the kibitka, she soon fell
into a sleep, its soundness proving her complete prostration.
Michael and Nicholas laid her on the straw as comfortably
as possible. The compassionate young man was greatly
moved, and if a tear did not escape from Michael's eyes, it
was because the red-hot iron had dried up the last!
" She is very pretty/' said Nicholas,
A FRIEND ON THE HIQHWA Y. 257
" Yes," replied Michael.
" They try to be strong, little father; they are brave,
but they are weak, after all, these dear little things! Have
you come from far?"
" Very far."
" Poor young people! It must have hurt you very much
when they burnt your eyes."
" Very much," answered Michael, turning toward Nich-
olas as if he could see him.
" Did you not weep?"
"Yes."
" I should have wept too. To think that one could never
again see those one loves. But they can see you, however;
that's perhaps some consolation."
" Yes, perhaps. Tell me, my friend," continued Mich-
ael, "have you never seen me anywhere before?"
" You, little father? No, never."
"The sound of your voice is not unknown to me."
"Why!" returned Nicholas, smiling, "he knows the
sound of my voice! Perhaps you ask me that to find out
where I come from. Oh! I am going to tell you. I come
from Kalyvan."
"From Kalyvan?" repeated Michael. "Then it was
there I met you. You were in the telegraph office?"
" That may be," replied Nicholas. " I was stationed
there. I was the clerk in charge of the messages."
" And you stayed at your post up to the last moment T9
"Wh}', it's just at that moment that one ought to be
there!"
" It was the day on which an Englishman and a
Frenchman were disputing, roubles in hand, for the place
at your wicket, and when the Englishman telegraphed some
poetry."
" That is possible, little father, but I do not remember
it."
258 MICHAEL STROOOFF.
" What! you do not remember it?"
" I never read the dispa.'ches which I send. My duty
being to forget then, the shortest way is not to know them
at all."
This reply showed Nicholas "Pigassof's character. In
the mean while the kibitka pursued its way at a pace which
Michael longed to render more rapid. But Nicholas and
his horse were accustomed to a pace which neither of them
would like to alter. The horse went for two hours and
rested one — so on day and night. Duriug the halts the
horse grazed, the travelers eat in company with the faith-
ful Serko. The kibitka was provisioned for at least twenty
persons, and Nicholas generously placed his supplies at the
disposal of his two guests, whom he believed to be brother
and sister.
After a day's rest Nadia recovered some strength.
Nicholas took the best possible care of her. The journey
was being made under tolerable circumstances, slowly cer-
tainly, but surely. It sometimes luvppened that during the
night Nicholas, although driving, fell asleep, and snored
with a clearness which showed the calmness of his con-
science. Perhaps then, by looking close, Michael's hand
might have been seen feeling for the reins and giving the
horse a more rapid pace, to the great astonishment of
Serko, who, however, said nothing. The trot was exchanged
for the amble as soon as Nicholas awoke, but the kibitka
had not the less gained some versts.
Thus they passed the river Ichirnsk, the villages of
Ichisnokoe, Berikylokoe, Kuskoe, the river Mariinsk, the
village of the same name, Bogostowskoe, and, lastly, the
Ichoula, a little stream which divides Western from Eastern
Siberia. The road now lay sometimes across wide moors,
which extended as far as the eye could reach, sometimes
through thick forests of firs, of which they thought they
should never get to the end.
A FRIEND ON THE HIQHWA Y. 259
Everywhere was a desert; the villages were almost en-
tirely abandoned. The peasants had fled beyond the
Yenisei, hoping that this wide river would perhaps stop
the Tartars.
On the"22d of August the kibitka entered the town of
Atchinsk, three hundred and eighty versts from Tomsk.
A hundred and twenty versts still lay between them and
Krasnoiarsk.
No incident had marked the journey. For the six days
during which they had been together Nicholas, Michael,
and Naclia had remained the same, the one in his un-
changeable calm, the other two uneasy and thinking of the
time when their companion would leave them.
Michael saw the country through which they traveled
with the eyes of Nicholas and the young girl. In turns
they each described to him the scenes they passed. He
knew whether he was in a forest or on a plain, whether a
hut was on the steppe or whether any Siberian was in sight.
Nicholas was never silent; he loved to talk; and from his
peculiar way of viewing things his friends were amused by
his conversation.
One day Michael asked him what sort of weather it
was.
"Fine enough, little father," he answered, "but we are
in the last days of summer. The autumn is short in Sibe-
ria, and soon we shall feel the first winter frosts. Perhaps
the Tartars will think of going into winter quarters during
the bad season."
Michael Strogoff shook his head with a doubtful air.
" You do not think so, little father?" resumed Nicholas.
"You think they will march on to Irkutsk?"
" I fear so," replied Michael.
" Yes, you are right. They have with them a bad man
who will not let them loiter on the way. You have heard
speak of Ivan Ogareff?"
260 MICHAEL 8TR0G0FP.
"Yes."
" You know that it is not right to betray one's country!"
" No, it is not right," answered Michael, who wished to
remain unmoved.
"Little father," continued Nicholas, "it seems tome
that you are not half-indignant enough when Ivan Ogareff
is spoken of. Your Russian heart ought to leap when his
name is uttered."
" Believe me, my friend, I hate him more than you can
ever hate him," said Michael.
"It is not possible!" replied Nicholas; "no, it is not
possible! When I think of Ivan Ogareff, of the harm
which he is doing to our sacred Russia, I get into such a
rage that if I could get hold of him "
"If you could get hold of him, friend?"
"I think I should kill him."
"And I — I am sure of it," returned Michael quietly.
THE PASSAGE OF THE YENISEI. 261
CHAPTEK VII.
THE PASSAGE OF THE YENISEI.
At nightfall on the 25th of August the kibitka came in
sight of Krasnoiarsk. The journey from Tomsk had taken
eight days. If it had not been accomplished as rapidly as
it might, it was because Nicholas had slept little. Con-
sequently it was impossible to increase his horse's pace,
though in other hands the journey would not have taken
sixty hours.
Happily there was no longer any fear of Tartars. Not
a scout had appeared on the road over which the kibitka
had just traveled. This was strange enough, and evidently
some serious cause had prevented the emir's troops from
marching without delay upon Irkutsk. Something had
occurred. A new Russian corps, hastily raised in the gov-
ernment of Yeniseisk, had marched to Tomsk to endeavor
to retake the town. But being too weak to withstand the
emir's troops now concentrated there, they had been forced
to effect a retreat. Feofar-Khan, including his own
soldiers and those of the khanats of Khokhand and Koon-
dooz, had now under his command two hundred and fifty
thousand men, to which the Russian Government could
not as yet oppose a sufficient force. The invasion could
not, therefore, be immediately stopped, and the whole Tar-
tar army might at once march upon Irkutsk.
The battle of Tomsk was on the 22d of August, though
this Michael did not know, but it explained why the van-
guard of the emir's army had not appeared at Krasnoiarsk
by the 25th.
262 MICHAEL STROGOFF.
However, though Michael Strogoff could not know the
events which had occurred since his departure, he at least
knew this: that he was several days in advance of the
Tartars, and that he need not despair of reaching before
them the town of Irkutsk, still eight hundred and fifty
versts distant.
Besides, at Krasnoiarsk, of which the population is about
twelve thousand souls, he depended upon obtaining some
means of transport. Since Nicholas Pigassof was to stop in
that town, it would be necessary to replace him by a guide
and to change the kibitka for another more rapid vehicle.
Michael, after having addressed himself to the governor of
the town and established his identity and quality as courier
of the czar — which would be easy — doubted not that he
would be enabled to get to Irkutsk in the shortest possible
time. He would thank the good Nicholas Pigassof and set
out immediately with Nadia, for he did not wish to leave
her until he had placed her in her father's arms. Though
Nicholas had resolved to stop at Krasnoiarsk, it was only,
as he said, "on condition of finding employment there."
In fact, this model clerk, after having stayed to the last
minute at his post in Kalyvan, was endeavoring to again
place himself at the disposal of the government.
" Why should I receive a salary which I have not earned?"
he would say.
In the event of his services not being required at Kras-
noiarsk, which it was expected would be still in telegraphic
communication with Irkutsk, he proposed to go to
Oudinsk, or even to the capital of Siberia itself. In the
latter case he would continue to travel with the brother
and sister; and where would they find a surer guide or a
more devoted friend?
The kibitka was now only half a verst from Krasnoiarsk.
The numerous wooden crosses which are erected at the ap-
proaches to the town could be seen to the right and left of
THE PASSAGE OF THE YENISEI 263
the road. It was seven in the evening; the outline of the
churches and of the houses built on the high bank of the
Yenisei were clearly denned against the evening sky and
the waters of the river reflected them in the twilight.
The kibitka stopped.
"Where are we, sister?" asked Michael.
" Half a verst from the first houses," replied Nadia.
" Can the town be asleep?" observed Michael. " Not a
sound strikes my ear."
"And I cannot see the slightest light, nor even smoke
mounting into the air," added Nadia.
" What a queer town!" said Nicholas. " They make no
noise in it and go to bed uncommonly early!"
A presentiment of impending misfortune passed across
Michael's heart. He had not said to Nadia that he had
placed all his hopes on Krasnoiarsk, where he expected to
find the means of safely finishing his journey. He much
feared that his anticipations would again be disappointed.
But Nadia had guessed his thoughts, although she could
not understand why her companion should be so anxious to
reach Irkutsk, now that the imperial letter was gone. She
one day said something of the sort to him.
" I have sworn to go to Irkutsk," he contented himself
with replying.
But to accomplish his mission it was necessary that at
Krasnoiarsk he should find some more rapid mode of
locomotion.
"Well, friend," said he to Nicholas, "why are we not
going on?"
"Because I am afraid of waking up the inhabitants of
the town with the noise of my carriage. "
And with a light fleck of the whip Nicholas put his horse
in motion. Serko uttered a few short barks and the kibitka
rolled along the road toward Krasnoiarsk.
Ten minutes after they entered the High Street.
2U MICHAEL STROOOFF.
Krasnoiarsk was deserted; there was no longer an Athe-
nian in this " Northern Athens," as Madame de Bourboulon
has called it. Not one of their dashing equipages swept
through the wide clean streets. Not a pedestrian enlivened
the footpaths raised at the bases of the magnificent wooden
houses of monumental aspect! Not a Siberian belle,
dressed in the last French fashion, promenaded the beauti-
ful park, cleared in a forest of birch trees, which stretches
away to the banks of the Yenisei! The great bell of the
cathedral was dumb; the chimes of the churches were
silent, and it is uncommon for a Russian town not to be
filled with the sound of its bells. But here was complete
desolation. There was no longer a living being in this
town, lately so lively!
The last telegram sent from the czar's cabinet, before the
rupture of the wire, had ordered the governor, the garrison,
the inhabitants, whoever they might be, to leave Krasnoi-
arsk, to carry with them any articles of value or which
might be of use to the Tartars, and to take refuge at Irkutsk.
The same injunction was given to all the villages of the
province. It was the intention of the Muscovite govern-
ment to lay the country desert before the invaders. No one
thought for an instant of disputing these orders. They
were executed, and this was the reason why not a single
human being remained in Krasnoiarsk.
Michael Strogoff, Nadia, and Nicholas passed silently
through the streets of the town. They felt half-stupefied.
They themselves made the only sound to be heard in this
dead city. Michael allowed nothing of what he felt to
appear, but he inwardly raged against the bad luck which
pursued him, his hopes being again disappointed.
" Alack! alack!" cried Nicholas, "I shall never get any
employment in this desert!"
" Friend," said Nadia, "you must go on with us to
Irkutsk."
THh PASSAGE OF THE YENISEI. 265
"I must indeed !" replied Nicholas. "The wire is no
doubt still working between Oudinsk and Irkutsk, and
there — Shall we start, little father?"
" Let us wait till to-morrow," answered Michael.
" You are right," said Nicholas. " We have the Yenisei
to cross and need light to see our way there!"
" To see!" murmured Nadia, thinking of her blind com-
panion.
Nicholas heard her, and turning to Michael:
" Forgive me, little father," said he. "Alas! night and
day, it is true, are all the same to you!"
" Do not reproach yourself, friend," replied Michael,
pressing his hand over his eyes. " With you for a guide I
can still act. Take a few hours' repose. Nadia must rest
too. To-morrow we will recommence our journey!"
Michael and his friends had not to search long for a
place of rest. The first house, the door of which they
pushed open, was empty, as well as all the others. Nothing
could be found within but a few heaps of leaves. For want
of better fodder the horse had to content himself with this
scanty nourishment. The provisions of the kibitka were not
yet exhausted, so each had a share. Then, after having
knelt before a small picture of the Panaghia hung on the
wall and still lighted up by a flickering lamp, Nicholas and
the young girl slept, while Michael, over whom sleep had
no influence, watched.
Before daybreak the next morning, the 26th of August,
the horse was drawing the kibitka through the forest of
birch trees toward the banks of the Yenisei.
Michael was in much anxiety. How was he to cross
the river if, as was probable, all boats had been destroyed
to retard the Tartars' march? He knew the Yenisei,
having already crossed it several times. He knew that its
width was considerable, that its currents were strong in the
double bed which it has hollowed for itself between the
266 MICHAEL STROGOFF.
islands. Under ordinary circumstances, by means of boats
specially built for the conveyance of travelers, carriages,
and horses, the passage of the Yenisei takes about three
hours, and then it is with extreme difficulty that the boats
reach the opposite bank. Now, in the absence of any
ferry, how was the kibitka to get from one bank to the
other?
Day was breaking when the kibitka reached the left
bank, where one of the wide alleys of the park ended.
They were about a hundred feet above the course of the
Yenisei, and could therefore survey the whole of its wide
course.
"Do you see a boat?" asked Michael, casting his eyes
eagerly about from one side to the other, mechanically, no
doubt, as if he could really see.
^^ It is scarcely light yet, brother," replied Nadia. " The
fog is still thick and we cannot see the water."
" But I hear it roaring," said Michael.
Indeed, from the fog issued a dull roaring sound. The
waters being high rushed down with tumultuous violence.
All three waited until the misty curtain should rise. The
sun was ascending rapidly above the horizon, and his rays
would not be long in dispersing the vapors.
"Well?" asked Michael.
"The fog is beginning to roll away, brother," replied
Nadia, "and it will soon be clear."
" Then you do not see the surface of the water yet,
sister?"
"Not yet."
" Have patience, little father," said Nicholas. " All this
will soon disappear. Look! here comes the breeze! It is
driving away the fog. The trees on the opposite hills are
already appearing. It is sweeping, flying away. The
kindly rays of the sun have condensed all that mass of mist.
Ah! how beautiful it is, my poor fellow, and how unfor-
tunate that you cannot see such a lovely Bight!"
THE PASSAGE OF THE YENISEI. 267
"Do you see a boat?" asked Michael.
" I see nothing of the sort," answered Nicholas.
"Look well, friend, on this and the opposite bank, as
far as your eye can reach. A boat, a raft, a birch-bark
canoe?"
Nicholas and Nadia, grasping the bushes on the edge of
the cliff, bent over the water.
The view they thus obtained was extensive. At this
place the Yenisei is not less than a verst and a half in
width, and forms two arms, of unequal size, through which
the waters flow swiftly. Between these arms lie several
islands, covered with alders, willows, and poplars, looking
like verdant ships anchored in the river. Beyond rise the
high hills of the eastern shore, crowned with forests whose
tops were then empurpled with light. The Yenisei
stretched on either side as far as the eye could reach. The
beautiful panorama lay before them for a distance of fifty
versts.
But not a boat was to be seen, either on the left or the
right bank or on the islets. All had been taken away or
destroyed according to order. Unless the Tartars should
bring with them from the south the materials for building
a bridge of boats, their march toward Irkutsk would
certainly be stopped for some time by this barrier, the
Yenisei.
" I remember," said Michael, " that higher up, on the
outskirts of Krasnoiarsk, there is a little quay. There the
boats touch. Friend, let us go up the river and see if some
boat has not been forgotten on the bank."
Nadia seized Michael's hand and started off at a rapid
pace in the direction indicated. If only a boat or a barge
large enough to hold the kibitka could be found, or even
one that would carry just themselves, Michael would not
hesitate to attempt the passage.
Twenty minutes after, all three had reached the little
268 MICHAEL STROGOFF.
quay, with houses on each side quite down to the water's
edge. It was like a village standing beyond the town of
Krasnoiarsk.
But not a boat was on the shore, not a barge at the little
wharf — nothing even of which a raft could be made large
enough to carry three people.
Michael questioned Nicholas, and the latter made the
discouraging reply that the crossing of the river appeared
to him to be absolutely impracticable.
"We shall cross!" answered Michael.
The search was continued. They examined the houses
on the shore, abandoned like all the rest of Krasnoiarsk.
They had merely to push open the doors and enter. The
cottages were evidently those of poor people and quite
empty. Nicholas visited one, Nadia entered another, and
even Michael went here and there and felt about, hoping
to light upon some article that might be useful.
Nicholas and the girl had each fruitlessly rummaged
these cottages and were about to give up the search, when
they heard themselves called.
Both ran to the bank and saw Michael standing on the
threshold of a door.
"Come!" he exclaimed.
Nicholas and Nadia went toward him and followed him
into the cottage.
"What are these?" asked Michael, touching several ob-
jects piled up in a corner.
" They are leathern bottles," answered Nicholas, "and
not less than half a dozen of them!"
"Are they full?"
" Yes, full of koumyss. We have found them very op-
portunely to renew our provisions."
Koumyss is a drink made of mare's or camel's milk, and
is very sustaining and even intoxicating; so that Nicholas
and his companions could not but congratulate themselves
on the discovery.
THE PASSAGE OF THE YENISEI 269
"Put one aside," said Michael, "but empty all the
others."
"Directly, little father."
" These will help us to cross the Yenisei."
"And the raft?"
" Will be the kibitka itself, which is light enough to float.
Besides, we will sustain it, as well as the horse, with these
bottles."
" Well thought of, little father," exclaimed Nicholas,
" and by God's help we will get safely over, though perhaps
not in a straight line, for the current is rapid!"
"What does that matter?" replied Michael. "Let us
get across first, and we shall soon find out the road to
Irkutsk on the other side of the river."
" To work, then," said Nicholas, beginning to empty
the bottles and carry them to the kibitka.
One full of koumyss was reserved, and the rest, carefully
fastened up, being previously filled with air, were used to
form a floating apparatus. Two bottles were fastened to
the horse's sides to support it in the water. Two others were
attached to the shafts in order to keep them on a level n ith
the body of the machine, thus transformed into a raft.
This work was soon finished.
" You will not be afraid, Nadia?" asked Michael.
" No, brother," answered the girl.
"And you, friend?"
" I!" cried Nicholas. " I am now going to have one of
my dreams realized — that of sailing in a cart."
At the spot where they were now standing the bank
sloped and was suitable for the launching of the kibitka.
The horse drew it into the water and they were soon both
floating. As to Serko, he was swimming bravely.
The three passengers, seated in the vehicle, had with due
precaution taken off their shoes and stockings; but, thanks
to the bottles, the water did not even come over their
270 MICHAEL STROGOFF.
ankles. Michael held the reins and according to Nicholas'
directions guided the animal obliquely, but cautiously, so
as not to exhaust him by struggling against the current.
So long as the kibitka went with the current all was easy, and
in a few minutes it had passed the quays of Krasnoiarsk. It
drifted northward, and it was soon evident that it would only
reach the opposite bank far below the town. But that mat-
tered little. The crossing of the Yenisei would have been
made without great difficulty, even on this imperfect appara-
tus, had the current been more regular; but unfortunately
there were whirlpools in numbers, and soon the kibitka, not-
withstanding all Michael's efforts, was irresistibly drawn
into one of these tumultuous spots.
There the danger was great. The kibitka no longer
drifted, but spun rapidly round, inclining toward the center
of the eddy, like a rider in a circus. The horse could
scarcely keep his head above water and ran a great risk of
being suffocated. Serko had been obliged to take refuge
in the carriage.
Michael knew what was happening. He felt himself
drawn round in a gradually narrowing line, from which
they could not get free. How he longed to see, to be bet-
ter able to avoid this peril; but that was no longer possible.
Nadia was silent, her hands clinging to the side of the
cart, supporting her in the jerks of the machine, which
was inclining more and more toward the center of depres-
sion.
And Nicholas — did he not understand the gravity of the
situation? Was it with him phlegm or contempt of
danger, courage or indifference? Was his life valueless in
his eyes and, according to the Eastern expression, "a
hotel for five days," which, whether one is willing or not,
must be left the sixth? At any rate, the smile on his rosy
face never faded for an instant.
The kibitka was thus in the whirlpool and the horse was
THE PASSAGE OF THE YENISEI. 271
nearly exhausted, when all at once Michael, throwing off
such of his garments as might impede him, jumped into
the water; then seizing with a strong hand the bridle of
the terrified horse, he gave him such an impulse that he
managed to struggle out of the circle, and getting again
into the current the kibitka drifted along with renewed
speed.
"Hurrah!" exclaimed Nicholas.
Two hours only after leaving the wharf the kibitka had
crossed the widest arm of the river and had landed on an
island more than six vests below the starting-point.
There the horse drew the cart on to the bank and an
hour's rest was given to the courageous animal; then the
island having been crossed under the shade of its magnifi-
cent birches, the kibitka found itself on the shore of the
smallest arm of the Yenisei.
This passage was much easier; no whirlpools broke the
course of the river in this second bed; but the current was
so rapid that the kibitka only reached the opposite side five
versts below. They had drifted eleven versts in all.
These great Siberian rivers, across which no bridges
have as yet been thrown, are serious obstacles to the facility
of communication. All had been more or less unfortunate
to Michael Strogoff. On the Irtish the boat which carried
him and Nadia had been attacked by Tartars. On the
Obi, after his horse had been struck by a bullet, he had
only by a miracle escaped from the horsemen who were
pursuing him. In fact, this passage of the Yenisei had
been performed the least disastrously.
" That would not have been so amusing," exclaimed
Nicholas, rubbing his hands as they disembarked on the
right bank of the river, "if it had not been so difficult."
"That which has only been difficult to us, friend," an-
swered Michael, " will perhaps be impossible to the Tar-
tars. "
272 MICHAEL STUOGOFF.
CHAPTER VIII.
A HARE CROSSES THE ROAD.
Michael Strogoff might at last hope that the road to
Irkutsk was clear. He had distanced the Tartars, now de-
tained at Tomsk, and when the emir's soldiers should
arrive at Krasnoiarsk they would find only a deserted town.
There being no immediate communication between the
two banks of the Yenisei, a delay of some days would be
caused until a bridge of boats could be established, and to
accomplish this would be a difficult undertaking.
For the first time since the encounter with Ivan Ogareff
at Omsk, the courier of the czar felt less uneasy and began
to hope that no fresh obstacle would arise to delay his
progress.
The kibitka, after descending obliquely toward the south-
west for fifteen versts, found and continued the long path
traced across the steppe.
The road was good, for the part of it which extends be-
tween Krasnoiarsk and Irkutsk is considered the best in
the whole journey; fewer jolts for travelers, large trees to
shade them from the heat of the sun, sometimes forests of
pines or cedars covering an extent of a hundred versts. It
was no longer the wide steppe with limitless horizon; but
the rich country was empty. Everywhere tliev came upon
deserted villages. The Siberian peasantry had vanished.
It was a desert, but, as lias been said, a desert by order of
the czar.
The weather was lino, but the air, which cooled during
A II ARE GROSSES THE ROAD. 2?3
the night, took some time to got warm again. Indeed, it
was now near September, and in this high region the days
were sensibly shortening. Autumn here lasts but a very
little while, although this part of Siberian territory is not
situated above the fifty-fifth parallel, which is the same as
Edinburgh and Copenhagen. However, winter succeeds
summer almost unexpectedly. These winters of Asiatic
Russia may be said to be precocious, considering that
during them the thermometer falls until the mercury is
frozen nearly forty-two degrees below zero, and that twenty
degrees below zero is considered a supportable tempera-
ture.
The weather favored our travelers. It was neither
stormy nor rainy. The heat was moderate, the nights cool.
The health of Nadia and Michael was good, and since
leaving Tomsk they had gradually recovered from their past
fatigues.
As to Nicholas Pigassof, he had never been better in his
life. To him this journey was a trip, an agreeable excur-
sion in which he employed his enforced holiday.
" Decidedly," said he, "this is pleasanter than sitting
twelve hours a day, perched on a stool, working the
manipulator!"
Michael had managed to get Nicholas to make his horse
quicken his pace. To obtain this result, he had confided
to Nicholas that Nadia and he were on their way to join
their father, exiled at Irkutsk, and that they were very
anxious to get there. Certainly it would not do to over-
work the horse, for very probably they would not be able
to exchange him for another; but by giving him frequent
rests — every fifteen versts, for instance — sixty versts in
twenty-four hours could easily be accomplished. Besides,
the animal was strong and of a race calculated to endure
great fatigue. He was in no want of rich pasturage along
the road, the grass being- thick and abundant. Therefore
it was possible to demand an increase of work from him.
274 MICHAEL STROGOFF.
Nicholas gave in to all these reasons. He was much
moved at the situation of these two young people going to
share their father's exile. Nothing had ever appeared so
touching to him-. Then with what a smile he said to
Nadia:
"Divine goodness! What joy will Mr. Korpanoff feel
when his eyes behold you, when his arms open to receive
you! If I go to Irkutsk — and that appears very probable
now — will you permit me to be present at that interview ?
You will, will you not?"
Then, striking his forehead:
" But I forgot. What grief too when he sees that his
poor son is blind! Ah! everything is mingled in this
world!"
However, the result of all this was that the kibitka went
faster, and according to Michael's calculations now made
ten to twelve versts an hour.
On the 28th of August our travelers passed the town
of Balaisk, eighty versts from Krasnoiarsk, and on the 29th
that of Ribinsk, forty versts from Balaisk.
The next day, thirty-five versts beyond that, they ar-
rived at Kamsk, a larger place, watered by the river of
the same name, a little affluent of the Yenisei, which rises
in the Sayansk Mountains. It is not an important town,
but its wooden houses are picturesquely grouped round a
square overlooked by the tall steeple of its cathedral, of
which the gilded cross glitters in the sun.
Houses empty, church deserted! Not a relay to be
found, not an inn inhabited! Not a horse in the stables!
Not even a cat or a dog in the place! The orders of the
Muscovite government had been executed with absolute
strictness. All that could not be carried away had been
destroyed.
On leaving Kamsk, Michael told Nadia and Nicholas
that they would find only one small town of any impor-
A HA HE CROSSES THE ROAD. 275
tance, Nijni-Oudinsk, between that and Irkutsk. Nicholas
replied that he knew there was a telegraph station in that
ipwn; therefore if Nijni-Oudinsk was abandoned like
Kamsk, he would be obliged to seek some occupation in
the capital of Eastern Siberia.
The kibitka could ford, without getting any damage,
the little river which flows across the road beyond Kamsk.
Between the Yenisei' and one of its great tributaries, the'
Angara, which waters Irkutsk, there was nothing to be
feared from any stoppage caused by a river, unless it was
the Dinka. But the journey would not be much delayed
even by this.
From Kamsk to the next town was a long stage, nearly
a hundred and thirty versts. It is needless to say that
the regulation halts were observed, " without which," said
Nicholas, "they might have drawn upon themselves a just
complaint on the part of the horse." It had been agreed
with the brave animal that he should rest every fifteen
versts, and when a contract is made, even with an animal,
justice demands that the terms of it should be kept to.
After crossing the little river Biriousa the kibitka
reached Biriousinsk on the morning of the 4th of Sep-
tember.
There, very fortunately, for Nicholas saw that his pro-
visions were becoming exhausted, he found in an oven a
dozen pogatchas, a kind of cake prepared with sheep's fat,
and a large supply of plain boiled rice. This increase
was very opportune, for something would soon have been
needed to replace the koumyss with which the kibitka had
been stored at Krasnoiansk.
After a halt the journey was continued in the afternoon.
The distance to Irkutsk was not now more than five
hundred versts. There was not a sign of the Tartar van-
guard.
Michael Strogoff had some grounds for hoping that his
276 MICHAEL STROGOFF.
journey would not be again delayed, and that in eight
days, or at most ten, he would be in the presence of the
grand duke.
On leaving Biriousinsk a hare ran across the road thirty
feet in front of the kibitka.
"Ah!" exclaimed Nicholas.
"What is the matter, friend?" asked Michael quickly,
like a blind man whom the least sound arouses.
"Did you not see?'" said Nicholas, whose bright face
had become suddenly clouded.
Then he added:
"Ah! no! you could not see, and it's lucky for you,
little father!"
"But I saw nothing/' said Nadia.
"So much the better! So much the better! But I I
saw "
" What was it, then?" asked Michael.
"A hare crossing our road!" answered Nicholas.
In Russia, when a hare crosses the path of a traveler,
the popular belief is that it is the sign of approaching
evil.
Nicholas, superstitious like the greater number of Rus-
sians, had stopped the kibitka.
Michael understood his companion's hesitation, although
he in no way shared his credulity as to hares passing, and
he endeavored to reassure him.
" There is nothing to fear, friend," said he.
" Nothing for you nor for her, I know, little father,"
answered Nicholas, " but for me! It is my fate."
And he put his horse in motion again.
However, in spite of these forebodings the day passed
without any accident.
At twelve o'clock the next day, the Oth of September,
the kibitka halted in the village of Alsalevok, which was
as deserted as all the surrounding country.
A HARK GROSSES TI1K HO AD, 277
There, on a doorstep, Nadia found two of those strong-
bladed knives used by Siberian hunters. She gave one to
Michael, who concealed it among his clothes, and kept the
other herself. They were now not more than seventy-five
versts from Nijni-Oudinsk.
Nicholas had not recovered his usual spirits. The ill
omen had affected him more than could have been be-
lieved, and he who formerly was never half an hour with-
out speaking now fell into long reveries from which Nadia
found it difficult to arouse him. His moody state may be
accounted for when it is recollected that he was a man be-
longing to those Northern races whose superstitious an-
cestors have been the founders of the Hyperborean myth-
ology.
On leaving Ekaterenburg the Irkutsk road runs almost
parallel with the fifty-fifth degree of latitude, but from
Biriousinsk it proceeds southeast, so as to slope across the
hundredth meridian. It takes the shortest way to reach
the Siberian capital by crossing the Sayansk Mountains.
These mountains are themselves but part of the great
Altai' chain, which are visible at a distance of two hundred
versts.
The kibitka rolled swiftly along the road. Yes, swiftly!
Nicholas no longer thought of being so careful of his horse,
and was as anxious to arrive at his journey's end as Mi-
chael himself. Notwithstanding his fatalism, and though
resigned, he would not believe himself in safety until
within the walls of Irkutsk. Many Russians would have
thought as he did, and more than one would have turned
his horse and gone back again after a hare had crossed his
path.
However, some observations made by him, the justice
of which was proved by Nadia transmitting them to
Michael, made them fear that their trials were not yet
over.
278 MICHAEL STROQOFF.
Though the hind from Krasnoiarsk had been respected
in its natural productions, its forests now bore trace of fire
and steel; the fields on each side of the road had been
devastated, and it was evident that some large body of
men had passed that way.
Thirty versts before Nijni-Oudinsk the indications of
recent devastation could not be mistaken, and it was im-
possible to attribute them to others than the Tartars.
Indeed, it was not only that the fields were trampled by
horses' feet and that trees were cut down. The few houses
scattered along the road were not only empty; some had
been partly demolished, others half-burnt down. The
marks of bullets could be seen on their walls.
Michael's anxiety may be imagined. He could no longer
doubt that a party of Tartars had recently passed that way,
and yet it was impossible that they could be the emir's sol-
diers, for they could not have passed without being seen.
But, then, who were these new invaders, and by what out-
of-the-way path across the steppe had they been able to
join the high-road to Irkutsk? With what new enemies
was the czar's courier now to meet?
Michael did not communicate his apprehensions either
to Nicholas or Nadia, not wishing to make them uneasy.
Besides, he had resolved to continue his way as long as no
insurmountable obstacle stopped him. Later he would see
what it was best to do.
During the ensuing day the recent passage of a large
body of foot and horse became more and more apparent.
Smoke was seen above the horizon. The kibitka advanced
cautiously. Several houses in deserted villages still burned,
and they certainly could not have been set on fire more
than twenty-four hours before.
At last, during the day, on the 8th of September, the
kibitka stopped suddenly. The horse refused to advance.
Serko barked furiously.
A HA RE GROSSES THE ROAD. 279
" What is the matter?" asked Michael.
"A corpse!" replied Nicholas, who had leaped out of the
kihitka.
The body was that of a mujik, horribly mutilated and
already cold.
Nicholas crossed himself. Then, aided by Michael, he
carried the body to the side of the road. He would have
liked to give it decent burial, that the wild beasts of the
steppe might not feast on the miserable remains, but
Michael could not allow him the time.
" Come, friend, come!" he exclaimed, " we must not de-
lay, even for an hour!"
And the kibitka was driven on.
Besides, if Nicholas had wished to render the last duties
to all the dead bodies they were now to meet with on the
Siberian high-road, he would have had enough to do. As
they approached Nijni-Oudinsk they were found by twen-
ties stretched on the ground.
It was, however, necessary to follow this road until it
was manifestly impossible to do so longer without falling
into the hands of the invaders. The road they were follow-
ing could not be abandoned, and yet the signs of devastation
and ruin increased at every village they passed through.
All these hamlets, whose names showed that they had been
founded by Polish exiles, had been given up to the horrors
of pillage and fire. The blood of the victims was not yet
dry. As to gaining further information about the terrible
events which had occurred, that was impossible. There
was not a living being left to tell the tale.
About four o'clock in the afternoon of this day Nicholas
caught sight of the tall steeples of the churches of Nijni-
Oudinsk. Thick vapors, which could not have been clouds,
wore floating around them.
Nicholas and Nadia looked and communicated the result
of their observations to Michael. They must make up their
o(S( I MICH. 1 E L STROGOFF
minds what to do. If the town Avas abandoned they could
pass through without risk, but if by some inexplicable
maneuver the Tartars occupied it, they must at every cost
avoid the place.
" Advance cautiously/' said Michael, "but advance!"
A verst was soon traversed.
" Those are not clouds — that is smoke!" exclaimed Nadia.
"Brother, they are burning the town!"
It was, indeed, only too plain. Flashes of light appeared
in the midst of the vapor. It became thicker and thicker
as it mounted upward. There were no fugitives, however.
The incendiaries had probably found the town deserted and
had set fire to it. But were they Tartars who had done
this? They might be Russians obeying the orders of the
grand duke. Had the government of the czar determined
that from Krasnoiarsk, from the Yenisei, not a town, not
a village should offer a refuge to the emir's soldiers? What
was Michael Strogoff to do? Should he stop or should he
continue his journey?
He was undecided. However, having weighed the pros
and cons, he thought that whatever might be the difficul-
ties of a journey across the steppe without a beaten path,
he ought not to risk falling a second time into the hands
of the Tartars. He was just proposing to Nicholas to leave
the road and, unless absolutely necessary, not resume it
until Nijni-Oudinsk had been passed, when a shot was
heard on their right. A ball whistled, and the horse of the
kibitka fell dead, shot through the head.
At the same moment a dozen horsemen dashed forward
and the kibitka was surrounded.
Before they knew where they were, Michael, Nadia, and
Nicholas were prisoners and were being dragged rapidly
toward Nijni-Oudinsk.
Michael in this second attack had lost none of his pres-
ence of mind. Being unable to see his enemies, he had
A HARE CROSSES THE ROAD. 281
not thought of defending himself. Even had he possessed
the use of his eyes, he would not have attempted it. The
consequences would have been his death and that of his
companions. But though he could not see he could listen
and understand what was said.
From their language he found that these soldiers were
Tartars, and from their words that they preceded the in-
vading army.
In short, what Michael learned from the talk at the pres-
ent moment, as well as from the scraps of conversation he
overheard later, was this:
These men were not under the direct orders of the emir,
who was now detained beyond the Yenisei. They made
part of a third column, chiefly composed of Tartars from
the khanats of Khokh and and Koondooz, with which Feo-
far's army was to effect a junction in the neighborhood of
Irkutsk.
By Ivan Ogareff's advice, and in order to assure the suc-
cess of the invasion in the Eastern provinces, this column,
after crossing the frontier of the government of Semipala-
tinsk and passing to the south of Lake Balkhash, had
skirted the base of the Altai Mountains. Pillaging and
ravaging under the leadership of an officer of the Khan of
Koondooz, it had reached the upper course of the Yenisei.
There, guessing what had been done at Krasnoiarsk by
order of the czar, and to facilitate the passage of the river
to the emir's troops, this officer had launched a flotilla of
boats, which, either as barges or by affording material for
a bridge, would enable Feof ar to cross and resume the road
to Irkutsk. Having done this, it had descended the valley
of the Yenisei and struck the road on a level with Alsa-
levsk. From this little town began the frightful course of
ruin which forms the chief part of Tartar warfare. Nijni-
Oudinsk had shared the common fate, and the Tartars, to
the number of fifty thousand, had already quitted it to take
282 MICHAEL STROGOFF.
up a position before Irkutsk. Before long they would be
reenforced by the emir's troops.
Such was the state of affairs at this date, most serious
for this isolated part of Eastern Siberia and for the com-
paratively few defenders of its capital.
All this Michael learned: the arrival before Irkutsk of a
third column of Tartars and the approaching junction of
the emir and Ivan Ogareff with the bulk of their troops.
Consequently the investment of Irkutsk, and after that its
surrender, would only be an affair of time, perhaps of a very
short time.
It can be imagined with what thoughts Michael's mind
was now occupied! Who could have been astonished had
he in his present situation lost all hope and all courage?
[Nothing of the sort, however; his lips muttered no other
words than these:
"I will get there!"
Half an hour after the attack of the Tartar horsemen,
Michael Strogoff, Nadia, and Nicholas entered Nijni-
Oudinsk. The faithful dog followed them, though at a
distance. They could not stay in the town, as it was in
flames and about to be left by the last of the marauders.
The prisoners were therefore thrown on horses and hur-
ried away; Nicholas resigned as usual, Nadia, her faith in
Michael unshaken, and Michael himself apparently indif-
ferent, but ready to seize any opportunity of escaping.
The Tartars were not long in perceiving that one of
their prisoners was blind, and their natural barbarity led
them to make game of their unfortunate victim. They
were traveling fast. Michael's horse, having no one to
guide him, often started aside, and so made confusion
among the ranks. This drew on his rider such abuse and
brutality as wrung Nadia's heart and filled Nicholas with
indignation. But what could they do? They could not
speak the Tartar language, and their assistance was merci-
lessly refused.
A HARE CROSSES THE ROAD. 283
Soon it occurred to these men, in a refinement of cruelty,
to exchange the horse Michael was riding for one which
was blind. The motive of the change was explained by a
remark which Michael overheard:
" Perhaps that Kussian can see, after all!"
Thus was passed sixty versts from Nijni-Oudinsk,
through the villages of Tatan and Chibarlinskoe. Michael
had been placed on this horse and the reins ironically put
into his hand. Then, by dint of lashing, throwing stones,
and shoutiug, the animal was urged into a gallop.
The horse, not being guided by his rider, blind as him-
self, sometimes ran into a tree, sometimes went quite off
the road — in consequence, collisions and falls, which might
have been extremely dangerous.
Michael did not complain. Not a murmur escaped
him. When his horse fell he waited until it got up. It
was, indeed, soon assisted up and the cruel fun continued.
At sight of this wicked treatment Nicholas could not
contain himself; he endeavored to go to his friend's aid.
He was prevented and treated brutally.
This game would have been prolonged, to the Tartars'
great amusement, had not a serious accident put an end
to it.
On the 10th of September the blind horse ran away
and made straight for a pit, some thirty or forty feet deep,
at the side of the road.
Nicholas tried to go after him. He was held back.
The horse, having no guide, fell with his rider to the
bottom of the cliff.
Nicholas and Nadia uttered a piercing cry. They
believed that their unfortunate companion had been killed
in tlio fall.
However, when they went to his assistance it was found
that Michael, having been able to throw himself out of the
saddle, was unhurt, but the miserable horse had two legs
broken and was quite useless.
284 MICHAEL STROGOFF.
He was left there to die without being put out of his
suffering, and Michael, fastened to a Tartar's saddle, was
obliged to follow the detachment on foot.
Even now, not a protest, not a complaint. He marched
with a rapid step, scarcely drawn by the cord which tied
him. He was still "the man of iron" of whom General
Kissoff had spoken to the czar.
The next day, the 11th of September, the detachment
passed through the village of Chibarlinskoe. Here an
incident occurred which had serious consequences.
It was nightfall. The Tartar horsemen, having halted,
were more or less intoxicated. They were about to start.
Xadia, who till then, by a miracle, had been respect-
fully treated by the soldiers, was insulted by one of them.
Michael could not see the insult nor the insulter, but
Nicholas saw for him.
Then quietly, without thinking, without perhaps know-
ing what he was doing, Nicholas walked straight up to the
man, and before the latter could make the least movement
to stop him, had seized a pistol from his holster and dis-
charged it full at his breast.
The officer in command of the detachment hastened up
on hearing the report.
The soldiers would have cut the unfortunate Nicholas
to pieces, but at a sign from their officer he was bound in-
stead, placed across a horse, and the detachment galloped
off.
The rope which fastened Michael, gnawed through by
him, broke by the sudden start of the horse, and the half-
tipsy rider galloped on without perceiving that his prisoner
had escaped.
Michael and Nadia found themselves alone on the road.
IN THE STEPPE. 285
CHAPTER IX.
IN THE STEPPE.
Michael Strogoff and Nadia were once more as free as
they had been in the journey from Perm to the banks of
the Irtish. But how the conditions under which they trav-
eled were altered! Then, a comfortable tarantass, fresh
horses, well-kept post-horses assured the rapidity of their
journey. Now they were on foot; it was utterly impossible
to procure any other means of locomotion. They were
without resources, not knowing how to obtain the com-
monest necessaries, and they had still four hundred versts
to go. Moreover, Michael could now only see with Madia's
eyes.
As to the friend whom chance had given them, they had
just lost him> and fearful might be his fate. Michael had
thrown himself <iown under the brushwood at the side of
the road. Nadia stood beside him, waiting for the word
from him to continue the march.
It was ten o'clock. The sun had more than three hours
before disappeared below the horizon. There was not a
house, not a hut in sight. The last of the Tartars was lost
in the distance. Michael and Nadia were quite alone.
"What will they do with our friend?" exclaimed the
girl. "Poor Nicholas! Our meeting will have been fatal
to him!"
Michael made no response.
" Michael," continued Nadia, " do you not know that ho
defended you when you were the Tartars' sport, that he
risked his life for me?"
286 MICHAEL STROGOFF.
Michael was still silent. Motionless, his face buried in
his hands — of what was he thinking? Perhaps, although
he did not answer, he heard Nadia speak.
Yes, he heard her, for when the young girl added —
"Where shall I lead you, Michael?"
"To Irkutsk!" he replied.
"By the high-road?"
"Yes, Nadia."
Michael was still the same man who had sworn, what-
ever happened, to accomplish his object. To follow the
high-road was certainly to go the shortest way. If the
vanguard of Feofar-Khan's troops appeared it would then
be time to strike across the country.
Xadia took Michael's hand and they started.
The next morning, the 12th of September, twenty versts
further, they made a short halt in the village of Joulounov-
skoe. It was burnt and deserted. All night Xadia had
tried to see if the body of Nicholas had not been left on
the road, but it was in vain that she looked among the
ruins and searched among the dead. Till then he seemed
to have been spared. But might they not be reserving
him for some cruel torture on their arrival in the camp at
Irkutsk?
Nadia, exhausted with hunger, from which her compan-
ion was also suffering terribly, was fortunate enough to
find in one of the houses a quantity of dried meat and
soukharis, pieces of bread which, dried by evaporation,
preserve their nutritive qualities for an indefinite time.
Michael and the girl loaded themselves with as much as
they could carry. They had thus a supply of food for
several days, and as to water, there would be no want of
that in a district rendered fertile by the numerous little
affluents of the Angara.
They continued their journey. Michael walked with a
Jinn step, and only slackened his pace for his companion's
IN THE STEPPE. 287
sake. Nadia, not wishing to retard him, obliged herself to
walk. Happily he could not see to what a miserable state
fatigue had reduced her. But he guessed it.
" You are quite done up, poor child," he said some-
times.
" No," she would reply.
" When you can no longer walk I will carry you,
Nadia."
" Yes, Michael."
During the course of this day they came to the little
river Oka, but it was fordable and they had no difficulty
in crossing.
The sky was cloudy and the temperature moderate.
There wVs some fear that the rain might come on, which
would much have increased their misery. A few showers
fell, but they did not last.
They went on as before, hand in hand, speaking little,
Nadia looking about on every side; twice a day they halted.
Six hours of the night were given to sleep. In a few huts
Nadia again found a little mutton, which is so common
in this country that it is sold at two kopecks and a half a
pound.
But, contrary to Michael's hopes, there was not a single
beast of burden in the country; horses, camels — all had
been either killed or carried off. They must still continue
to plod on across this weary steppe on foot.
The third Tartar column, on its way to Irkutsk, had
left plain traces of its course: here a dead horse, there an
abandoned cart. The bodies of unfortunate Siberians lay
along the road, principally at the entrances to villages.
Nadia, overcoming her repugnance, looked at all these
corpses.
In fact, the danger lay not before, but behind. The
advance guard of the emir's army, commanded by 1 \ an
Ogareff, might at any moment appear. The boats sent
288 MICHAEL STROQOFF.
down the lower Yenisei must by this time have reached Kras-
noiarsk and been made use of. The road was therefore
open to the invaders. No Kussian force could be opposed
to them between Krasnoiarsk and Lake Baikal; Michael
therefore expected before long the appearance of the Tar-
tar scouts.
At each halt Nadia climbed some hill and looked
anxiously to the westward, but as yet no cloud of dust had
signaled the approach of a troop of horse.
Then the march was resumed, and when Michael felt
that he was dragging poor Nadia forward too rapidly he
went at a slower pace. They spoke little and only of
Nicholas. The young girl recalled all that this companion
of a few days had done for them.
In answering, Michael tried to give Nadia some hope of
which he did not feel a spark himself, for he well knew
that the unfortunate fellow would not escape death.
One day Michael said to the girl:
"You never speak to me of my mother, Nadia."
His mother! Nadia had never wished to do so. Why
renew this grief? Was not the old Siberian dead? Had
not her son given the last kiss to her corpse stretched on
the plain of Tomsk?
" Speak to me of her, Nadia/' said Michael. " Speak —
you will please me."
And then Xadia did what she had not done before. She
told all that had passed between Maria and herself since
their meeting at Omsk, where they had seen each other for
the first time. She said how an inexplicable instinct had
led her toward the old prisoner without knowing who she
was, what care she had bestowed on her, and what encour-
agement she had received in return. At that time Michael
Strogoff had been to her but Nicholas Korpanoff.
"Whom I ought always to have boon." replied Michael,
his brow darkening.
IN THE STEPPE. 2S9
Then later he added:
' ' I have broken my oath, Nadia. I had sworn not to see
my mother!"
''But you did not try to see her, Michael," replied
Nadia. " Chance alone brought you into her presence."
" I had sworn, whatever might happen, not to betray
myself."
"Michael! Michael! at sight of the lash raised upon
Marfa, could you refrain? No! No oath could prevent a
son from succoring his mother!"
" I have broken my oath, Nadia," returned Michael.
" May God and the father pardon me!"
" Michael," resumed the girl, "I have a question to ask
you. Do not answer it if you think you ought not. Noth-
ing from you would vex me."
" Speak, Nadia."
"Why, now that the czar's letter has been taken from
you, are you so anxious to reach Irkutsk?"
Michael tightly pressed his companion's hand, but he
did not answer.
"Did you know the contents of that letter before you
left Moscow?"
" No, I did not know."
" Must I think, Michael, that the wish alone to place
me in my father's hands draws you toward Irkutsk?"
" No, Nadia," replied Michael gravely. " I should
deceive you if I allowed you to believe that it was so. I go
where duty orders me to go. As to taking you to Irkutsk,
is it not you, Nadia, who are now taking me there? Do I
not see with your eyes, and is it not your hand that guides
me? Have you not repaid a hundredfold the help which
I was able to give you at first? I do not know if fate will
cease to go against us; but the day on which you thank me
for having placed you in your father's hands, I in my turn
will thank you for having led me to Irkutsk."
290 MICHAEL STROGOFF.
" Poor Michael!" answered Nadia, with emotion. " Do
not speak so. That is not the answer to my question.
Michael, why, now, are you in such haste to reach
Irkutsk?"
" Because I must be there before Ivan Ogareff," ex-
claimed Michael.
" Even now?"
"Even now; and I will be there, too!"
In uttering these last words Michael did not speak
solely through hatred to the traitor. But Kadia under-
stood that her companion had not told, or could not tell,
her all.
On the loth of September, three days later, the two
reached the village of Kouitounskoe, seventy versts from
Toulounovskoe. The young girl suffered dreadfully. Her
aching feet could scarcely support her; but she fought,
she struggled against her weariness, and her only thought
was this:
" Since he cannot see me, I will go on till I drop."
There were no obstacles on this part of the journey, no
danger either since the departure of the Tartars, only much
fatigue.
For three days it continued thus. It was plain that
the third invading column was advancing rapidly in the
east; that could be seen by the ruins which they left after
them — the cold cinders and the already decomposing
corpses.
There was nothing to be seen in the west; the emir's
advance-guard had not yet appeared. Michael began to
consider the various reasons which might have caused this
delay. Was a sufficient force of Russians directly men-
acing Tomsk or Krasnoiarsk? Did the third column,
isolated from the others, run a risk of being cut off? If
this was the case, it would be easy for the grand duke to
defend Irkutsk, and any time gained against an invasion
was a step toward repulsing it.
IN THE STEPPE 291
Michael sometimes let his thoughts run on these hopes,
but he soon saw their improbability, and felt that the
preservation of the grand duke depended alone on him.
Sixty versts separate Kouitounskoe from Kimilteiskoe, a
little village situated at a short distance from the Dinka,
a tributary of the Angara. Michael thought with some ap-
prehension of the obstacle which this affluent placed in his
way. There was not the remotest chance of finding any-
thing like a boat, and he remembered (having already
crossed it in happier times) when it was difficult to ford.
But this once crossed, no other river interrupted the road
to Irkutsk, two hundred and thirty versts from thence.
It would only take three days to reach Kimilteiskoe.
Nadia dragged herself along. Whatever might be her
moral energy, her physical strength would soon fail her.
Michael knew it only too well.
If he had not been blind Nadia would have said to
him:
"Go, Michael; leave me in some hut. Reach Irkutsk.
Accomplish your mission. See my father. Tell him
where I am. Tell him that I wait for him, and you both
will know where to find me. Start. I am not afraid. I
will hide myself from the Tartars. I will take care of
myself for him, for you. Go, Michael. I can go no
further."
Many times Nadia was obliged to stop. Michael then
took her in his arms and, having no longer to think of her
fatigue, walked more rapidly and with his inden ^able
step.
On the 18th of September, at ten in the evening, Kimil-
teiskoe was at last entered. From the top of a hill Nadia
saw in the horizon a long light line. It was the Dinka. A
few lightning flashes were reflected in the water — summer
lightning, without thunder.
Nadia led her companion through the rained village.
MICHAEL STROQOFF.
The cinders were quite cold. The last of the Tartars had
passed through at least five or six days before.
Arrived at the outskirts of the village, Nadia sank down
on a stone bench.
" Shall we make a halt?" asked Michael.
" It is night, Michael," answered Nadia. " Do yon not
want to rest a few hours?"
"1 would rather have crossed the Dinka," replied
Michael. " I should like to put that between ns and the
emir's advance-guard. But you can scarcely drag yourself
along, my poor Nadia!"
" Come, Michael," returned Nadia, seizing her com-
panion's hand and drawing him forward.
Two or three versts further the Dinka flowed across the
Irkutsk road. The young girl wished to attempt this last
effort asked by her companion. She found her way by the
light from the flashes. They were then crossing a bound-
less desert, in the midst of which was lost the little river.
Not a tree nor a hillock broke the flatness. Not a breath
disturbed the atmosphere, whose calmness would allow the
slightest sound to travel an immense distance.
Suddenly Michael and Nadia stopped, as if their feet
had been caught in some crevice in the ground.
The barking of a dog came across the steppe.
" Do you hear?" said Nadia.
Then a mournful cry succeeded it — a despairing cry,
like the last appeal of a human being about to die.
"Nicholas! Nicholas!" cried the girl, feeling a forebod-
ing of evil.
Michael, who was listening, shook his head.
"Come, Michael, come," said Nadia.
And she who just now was dragging herself with diffi-
culty along suddenly recovered strength under violent ex-
citement.
" We have left the road," said Michael, feeling that
W HIE STEPPE. 29B
he was treading no longer on powdery soil, but on short
grass.
" Yes, we must!" returned Nadia. " It was there, on
the right, from which the cry came!5'
In a few minutes they were not more than half a verst
from the river.
A second hark was heard, but although more feeble it
was certainly nearer.
Nadia stopped.
"Yes!" said Michael. " It is Serko barking! He has
followed his master!"
" Nicholas!" called the girl.
Her cry was unanswered.
A few birds of prey rose and disappeared in the sky.
Michael listened. Nadia gazed over the plain illumined
now and again with electric light, but she saw nothing.
And yet a voice was again raised, this time murmuring
in a plaintive tone, " Michael !"
Then a dog, all bloody, bounded up to Nadia.
It was Serko!
Nicholas could not be far off! He alone could have mur-
mured the name of Michael ! Where was he ? Nadia had
no strength to call again.
Michael, crawling on the ground, felt about with his
hands.
Suddenly Serko uttered a fresh bark and darted toward
a gigantic bird which had swooped down.
It was a vulture. When Serko ran toward it it rose, but
returning to the charge it struck the dog. The latter
leaped up at it. A blow from the formidable beak alighted
on his head, and this time Serko fell back lifeless on the
ground.
At the same moment a cry of horror escaped Nadia.
"There! there!" she exclaimed.
A head issued from the ground! She had stumbled
against it in the darkness.
204 MICHAEL STMOOOFF.
Nadia fell on her knees beside it.
Nicholas, buried up to his neck, according to the atro-
cious Tartar custom, had been left in the steppe to die of
hunger and thirst, and perhaps by the teeth of wolves or
the beaks of birds of prey!
Frightful torture for the victim imprisoned in the
.'ound — the earth pressed down so that he cannot move,
his arms bound to his body like those of a corpse in its
coffin! The miserable wretch, living in the mold of clay
from which he is powerless to break out, can only long for
the death which is so slow in coming!
There the Tartars had buried their prisoner three days
before! For three days Nicholas waited for the help which
now came too late!
The vultures had caught sight of the head on a level
with the ground, and for some hours the dog had been de-
fending his master against these ferocious birds!
Michael dug at the ground with his knife to release his
friend.
The eyes of Nicholas, which till then had been closed,
opened.
He recognized Michael and Nadia. Then —
" Farewell, my friends!" he murmured. " I am glad to
have seen you again! Pray for me!"
These words were his last.
Michael continued to dig, though the ground, having
jeen tightly rammed down, was as hard as a stone, and
he managed at last to get out the body of the unhappy
man. He listened if his heart was still beating. It was
still!
wished to bury him, that he might not be left ex-
posed on the steppe; and the hole into which Nicholas had
been placed when living he enlarged, so that he might
be laid in it — dead! The faithful Serko was laid by his
master.
W THE STEPPE. 205
At that moment a noise was heard on the road, about
half a verst distant.
Michael Strogoff listened.
It was evidently a detachment of horse advancing toward
the Dinka.
"Nadia! Nadia!" he said in a low voice.
Nadia, who was kneeling in prayer, arose.
" Look! look!" said he.
" The Tartars!" she whispered.
It was indeed the emir's advance-guard, passing rapidly
along the road to Irkutsk.
" They shall not prevent me from burying him!" said
Michael.
And he continued his work.
Soon the body of Nicholas, the hands crossed on the
breast, was laid in the grave. Michael and Nadia, kneel-
ing, prayed a last time for the poor fellow, inoffensive and
good, who had paid for his devotion toward them with his
life.
"And now," said Michael as he threw in the earth, " the
wolves of the steppe will not devour him."
Then he shook his fist at the troop of horsemen who
were passing.
" Forward, Nadia!" he said.
Michael could not follow the road, now occupied by
the Tartars. He must cross the steppe and turn to Ir-
kutsk. He had not now to trouble himself about crossing
the Dinka.
Nadia could not move, but she could see for him. He
took her in his arms and went on toward the southwest of
the province.
More than two hundred versts still remained to be trav-
ersed. How was the distance to be performed? Should
they not succumb to such fatigue? On what were they to
live on the way? By what superhuman energy were they
296 MICHAEL STROGOFF.
to pass the slopes of the Sayansk Mountains? Neither he
nor Nadia could answer this.
And yet, twelve days after, on the 2d of October, at six
o'clock in the evening, a wide sheet of water lay at Michael
StrogofTs feet.
It was Lake Baikal.
LAKH BAIKAL AND THE ANGARA. 2tf7
CHAPTER X.
LAKE BAIKAL AND THE ANGARA.
Lake Baikal is situated seventeen hundred feet above
the level of the sea. Its length is about nine hundred versts,
its breadth one hundred. Its depth is not known. Madame
de Bourboulon states that according to the boatmen it likes
to be spoken of as " Madam Sea." If it is called "Sir Lake "
it immediately lashes itself into fury. However, it is re-
ported and believed by the Siberians that a Russian is never
drowned in it.
This immense basin of fresh water, fed by more than
three hundred rivers, is surrounded by magnificent volcanic
mountains. It has no other outlet than the Angara, which
after passing Irkutsk throws itself into the Yenisei a little
above the town of Yeniseisk. As to the mountains which
incase it, they form a branch of the Toungouzes and are
derived from the vast sytem of the Altai*.
Even now the cold began to be felt. In this territory,
subject to peculiar climatic conditions, the autumn appears
to be absorbed in the precocious winter. It was now the
beginning of October. The sun set at five o'clock in the
evening, and during the long nights the temperature fell
to zero. The first snows, which would last till summer,
already whitened the summits of the neighboring hills.
During the Siberian winter this inland sea is frozen over
to a thickness of several feet and is cut up by the sleighs
of couriers and caravans.
Either because there are people who are sq wanting in
293 MICHAEL STROOOFF.
politeness as to call it " Sir Lake/' or for some more
meteorological reason, Lake Baikal is subject to violent
tempests. Its waves, short like those of all inland seas, are
mnch feared by the rafts, prahms, and steamboats which
furrow it during the summer.
It was the southwest point of the lake which Michael
had now reached, carrying Nadia, whose whole life, so to
speak, was concentrated in her eyes. But what could these
two expect in this wild region if it was not to die of exhaus-
tion and famine? And yet what remained of the long
journey of six thousand versts for the czar's courier to
reach his end? Nothing but sixty versts on the shore of
the lake up to the mouth of the Angara and eighty versts
from the mouth of the Angara to Irkutsk; in all, a hun-
dred and forty versts, or three days' journey for a strong
healthy man, even on foot.
Could Michael Strogoff still be that man?
Heaven, no doubt, did not wish to put him to this trial.
The fatality which had hitherto pursued his steps seemed
for a time to spare him. This end of the Baikal, this part
of the steppe, which he believed be a desert, which it
usually is, was not so now.
About fifty people were collected at the angle formed by
the southwest point of the lake.
Nadia immediately caught sight of this group when
Michael, carrying her in his arms, issued from the moun-
tain pass.
The girl feared for a moment that it was a Tartar de-
tachment sent to beat the shores of the Baikal, in which
case flight would have been impossible to them both.
But Nadia was soon reassured on this point.
" Russians!" she exclaimed.
And with this last effort her eyes closed and her head fell
on Michael's breast.
But they had been seen, and some of these Russians,
LAKE BAIKAL AND THE ANGARA. 299
running to them, led the blind man and the girl to a little
point at which was moored a raft.
The raft was just going to start.
These Russians were fugitives of different conditions
whom the same interest had united at this point of Lake
Baikal. Driven back by the Tartar scouts, they hoped to
obtain a refuge at Irkutsk, but not being able to get there
by land, the invaders having taken up a position on the two
banks of the Angara, they hoped to reach it by descending
the river which flows through that town.
Their plan made Michael's heart leap. A last chance
was before him, but he had strength to conceal this, wish-
ing to keep his incognito more strictly than ever.
The fugitives' plan was very simple. A current in the
lake runs along by the upper bank to the mouth of the
Angara; this current they hoped to utilize and with its
assistance to reach the outlet of Lake Baikal. From this
point to Irkutsk the rapid waters of the river would bear
them along at a rate of from ten°to twelve versts an hour.
In a day and a half they might hope to be in sight of the
town.
No kind of boat was to be found. They had been
obliged to make one — a raft, or rather a float of wood, similar
to those which usually are drifted down Siberian rivers,
was constructed. A forest of firs growing on the bank had
supplied the necessary materials; the trunks, fastened to-
gether with osiers, made a platform on which a hundred
people could have easily found room.
On board this raft Michael and Nadia were taken. The
girl had returned to herself; some food was given to her as
well as to her companion. Then, lying on a bed of le;<\ e .
she soon fell into a deep sleep.
To those who questioned him, Michael StrogofE said
nothing of what had taken place at Tomsk, lie gave him-
self out as an inhabitant of Krasnoiarsk who had not been
300 MICHAEL STROGOFF.
able to get to Irkutsk before the emir's troops arrived on
the left bank of the Dinka, and he added that very probably
the bulk of the Tartar forces had taken up a position before
the Siberian capital.
There was not a moment to be lost; besides, the cold
was becoming more and more severe. During the night
the temperature fell below zero; ice was already forming
on the surface of the Baikal. Although the raft managed
to pass easily over the lake, it might not be 30 easy between
the banks of the Angara should pieces of ice be found to
block up its course.
For all these reasons it was necessary that the fugitives
should start without delay.
At eight in the evening the moorings were cast off and
the raft drifted in the current along the shore. It was
steered by means of long poles under the management of
several muscular mujiks.
An old Baikal boatman took command of the raft. He
was a man of sixty-five, browned by the sun and lake
breezes. A thick white beard flowed over his chest; a fur
cap covered his head; his aspect was grave and austere.
His large great-coat, fastened in at the waist, reached down
to his heels. This taciturn old fellow was seated in the
stern and issued his commands by gestures, not uttering
ten words in ten hours. Besides, the chief work consisted
in keeping the raft in the current, which ran along the
shore, without drifting out into the open.
It has been already said that Eussians of all conditions
had found a place on the raft. Indeed, to the poor mujiks,
the women, old men and children were joined two or three
pilgrims, surprised on their journey by the invasion; a few
monks and a papa. The pilgrims carried a staff, a gourd
hung at the belt, and they chanted psalms in a plaintive
voice; one came from the Ukraine, another from the
Yellow Sea, and a third from the Finland provinces. This
LAKE BAIKAL AND THE ANGARA. 301
last, who was an aged man, carried at his waist a little pad-
locked collecting-box, as if it had been hung at a church
door. Of all that he collected during his long and
fatiguing pilgrimage nothing was for himself; he did not
even possess the key of the box, which would only be
opened on his return.
The monk?i came from the north of the empire. Three
months before they had left the town of Archangel, which
some travelers justly believe to have the appearance of an
Eastern city. They had visited the sacred islands near the
coast of Carelia, the convent of Solovetsk, the convent of
TroVtsa, those of St. Anthony and St. Theodosia, at Kiev,
the old favorite of the Jagellons, the monastery of Simeonof
at Moscow, that of Kazan, as well as the church of the Old
Believers, and they were now on their way to Irkutsk,
wearing the robe, the cowl, and the clothes of serge.
As to the papa, he was a plain village priest, one of the
six hundred thousand popular pastors which the Eussian
Empire contains. He was clothed as miserably as the
mujiks, not being above them in social position; in fact,
laboring like a peasant on his plot of ground — baptizing,
marrying, burying. He had been able to protect his wife
and children from the brutality of the Tartars by sending
them away into the northern provinces. He himself had
stayed in his parish up to the last moment; then he was
obliged to fly and, the Irkutsk road being stopped, had
come to Lake Baikal.
These priests, grouped in the forward part of the raft,
prayed at regular intervals, raising their voices in the silent
night, and at the end of each sentence of their prayer the
" Slava Bogu!" — Glory to God! — issued from their lips.
No incident took place during the night. Nadia re-
mained in a sort of stupor and Michael watched beside her;
sleep only overtook him at long intervals, and even then
his brain did not rest. At break of day the raft, delayed
302 MICHAEL STROGOFF.
by a strong breeze, which counteracted the course of the
current, was still forty versts from the mouth of the Angara.
It seemed probable that the fugitives could not reach it be-
fore three or four o'clock in the evening. This did not
trouble them; on the contrary, for they would then descend
the river during the night, and the darkness would also
favor their entrance into Irkutsk.
The only anxiety exhibited at times by the old boatman
was concerning the formation of ice on the surface of the
water. The night had been excessively cold; pieces of ice
could be seen drifting toward the west. Nothing was to
be dreaded from these, since they could not drift into the
Angara, having already passed the mouth. But pieces
from the Eastern end of the lake might be drawn by the
current between the banks of the river; this would cause
difficulty, possibly delay, and perhaps even an insurmount-
able obstacle which would stop the raft.
Michael therefore took immense interest in ascertaining
what was the state of the lake and whether any large num-
ber of ice blocks appeared. Xadia being now awake, he
questioned her often and she gave him an account of all
that was going on.
"While the blocks were thus drifting, curious phenomena
were taking place on the surface of the Baikal. Magnifi-
cent jets from springs of boiling water shot up from some
of those artesian wells which nature has bored in the very
bed of the lake. These jets rose to a great height and
spread out in vapor, which was illuminated by the solar
rays and almost immediately condensed by the cold. This
curious sight would have assuredly amazed a tourist travel-
ing in peaceful times and sailing for pleasure on this
Siberian sea.
At four in the evening the mouth of the Angara was
signaled by the old boatman, between the high granite
rocks of the shore. On the right bank could be seen the
LAKE BAIKAL AND THE ANGARA. 303
little port of Livenitchnaia, its church, and its few houses
built on the bank.
But the serious thing was that the ice blocks from the
east were alrpady drifting between the banks of the Angara,
and consequently were descending toward Irkutsk. How-
ever, their number was not yet great enough to obstruct
the course of the raft, nor the cold great enough to increase
their number.
The raft arrived at the little port and there stopped.
The old boatman wished to put into the harbor for an
hour in order to make some necessary repairs.
The trunks threatened to separate, and it was important
to fasten them more securely together to resist the rapid
current of the Angara.
During the fine season, the port of Livenitchnaia is
a station for the embarkation or disembarkation of voyagers
across Lake Baikal, either on their way to Kiakhta, the
last town on the Russo-Chinese frontier, or when they are
returning.
It is therefore much frequented by the steamboats and
all the little coasters of the lake.
But Livenitchnaia was abandoned. Its inhabitants
had fled for fear of being exposed to the depredations of
the Tartars, who were now overrunning both banks of the
Angara. They had sent to Irkutsk the flotilla of boats
and barges which usually wintered in their harbor, and
supplied with all that they could carry, they had taken
refuge in time in the capital of Eastern Siberia.
The old boatmen did not expect to receive any fresh
fugitives at Livenitchnaia, and yet the moment the raft
touched two passengers, issuing from a deserted house,
ran as fast as they could toward the beach.
Nadia, seated on the raft, was abstractedly gazing at
the shore.
A cry was about to escape her. She seized Michael's
hand, who at that moment raised his head.
304: MICHAEL STROOOFF.
"What is the matter, Nadia?" he asked.
"Our two traveling companions. Michael."
"The Frenchman and the Englishman whom we met
in the denies of the Ural?"
"Yes."
Michael started, for the strict incognito which he wished
to keep ran a risk of being betrayed.
Indeed, it was no longer as Nicholas Korpanoff that
Jolivet and Blount would now see him, but as the true
Michael Strogoff, courier of the czar. The two corre-
spondents had already met him twice since their separation
at the Ishim post-house — the first time at the Zabediero
camp, when he laid open Ivan OgarefFs face with the
knout; the second time at Tomsk, when he was condemned
by the emir. They therefore knew who he was and what
depended on him.
Michael rapidly made up his mind.
" Nadia," said he, " when the Frenchman and the
Englishman step on board, ask them to come to me!"
It was, in fact, Harry Blount and Alcide Jolivet, whom
not chance, but the course of events, had brought to the
port of Livenitchnaia, as it had brought Michael Strogoff.
As we know, after having been present at the entry of
the Tartars into Tomsk, they had departed before the
savage execution which terminated the fete. They had
therefore never suspected that their former traveling
companion had not been put to death, and they were
ignorant that he had been only blinded by order of the
emir.
Having procured horses they had left Tomsk the same
evening, with the fixed determination of henceforward
dating their letters from the Russian camp of Eastern
Siberia.
Jolivet and Blount proceeded by forced marches to-
ward Irkutsk. They hoped to distance Feofar-Khan,
LAKE BAIKAL ANT) Til ft ANGARA. 3o5
and would certainly have done so had it not been for the
unexpected apparition of the third column, come from the
south up the valley of the Yenisei. They had been cut
off, as had been Michael, before being able even to reach
the Dinka, and had been obliged to go back to Lake
Baikal.
When they reached Livenitchnaia they found the port
already deserted. It was impossible on this side either
for them to enter Irkutsk, now invested by the Tartar
army. They had been in the place for three days in much
perplexity when the raft arrived.
The fugitives' plan was now explained to them.
There was certainly a chance that they might be able
to pass under cover of the night and penetrate into Irkutsk.
They resolved to make the attempt.
Alcide directly communicated with the old boatman
and asked a passage for himself and his companion, offer-
ing to pay anything he demanded, whatever it might be.
"No one pays here," replied the old man gravely;
" every one risks his life, that is all!"
The two correspondents came on board, and Nadia saw
them take their places in the fore part of the raft.
Harry Blount was still the reserved Englishman, who
had scarcely addressed a word to her during the whole
passage over the Ural Mountains.
Alcide Jolivet seemed to be rather more grave than usual,
and it may be acknowledged that his gravity was justified
by the circumstances.
Jolivet had, as has been said, taken his seat on the raft,
when he felt a hand laid on his arm.
Turning, he recognized Nadia, the sister of the man who
was no longer Nicholas Korpanoff, but Michael Strogoff,
courier of the czar.
He was about to make an exclamation of surprise, when
he saw the young girl lay her finger on her lips.
306 MICHAEL STllOGOFF
" Come," said Nadia.
And with a careless air Alcide rose and followed her,
making a sign to Blount to accompany him.
But if the surprise of the correspondents had been great
at meeting Nadia on the raft, it was boundless when they
perceived Michael Strogoif, whom they had believed to be
no longer living.
Michael had not moved at their approach. Jolivet
turned toward the girl.
" He does not see you, gentlemen," said Nadia. " The
Tartars have burnt out his eyes! My poor brother is
blind!"
A feeling of lively compassion exhibited itself on the faces
of Blount and his companion.
In a moment they were seated beside Michael, pressing
his hand and waiting until he spoke to them.
" Gentlemen," said Michael, in a low voice, " you ought
not to know who I am nor what I am come to do in Si-
beria. I ask you to keep my secret. Will you promise me
to do so?"
" On my honor," answered Jolivet.
" On my word as a gentleman," added Blount.
"Good, gentlemen."
" Can we be of any use to you?" asked Harry Blount.
" Could we not help you to accomplish your task?"
"I prefer to act alone," replied Michael.
"But those blackguards have destroyed your sight," said
Alcide.
" I have Nadia, and her eyes are enough for me!"
In half an hour the raft left the little port of Livenitch-
naia and entered the river. It was five in the evening and
getting dusk. The night promised to be dark and very
cold also, for the temperature was already below zero.
Alcide and Blount, though they had promised to keep
Michael's secret, did not, however, leave him. They talked
LAKE BAIKAL AftD THE ANGARA. 307
in a low voice, and the blind man, adding what they told
him to what he already knew, was able to form an exact
idea of the state of things.
It was certain that the Tartars had actually invested Ir-
kutsk and that the three columns had effected a junction,
'here was no doubt that the emir and Ivan Ogareff were
fore the capital.
But why did the czar's courier exhibit such haste to get
there i::< v that the imperial letter could no longer be given
by him to the grand duke, and when he did not even know
the contents of it? Alcide Jolivet and Blount could, not
understand it any more than Nadia had done.
No one spoke of the past, except when Jolivet thought
it his duty to say to Michael:
" We owe you some apology for not shaking hands with
you when we separated at Ishim."
" No, you had reason to think me a coward!"
" At any rate," added the Frenchman, " you knouted
the face of that villain finely, and he will carry the mark of
it for a long time!"
" No, not a long time!" replied Michael quietly.
Half an hour after leaving Livenitchnaia, Blount and
his companion were acquainted with the cruel trials through
which Michael and his companion had successively passed.
They could not but heartily admire his energy, which was
only equaled by the young girl's devotion. Their opinion
of Michael was exactly what the czar had expressed at
Moscow: "Indeed, this is a man!"
The raft swiftly threaded its way among the blocks of ice
which were carried along in the current of the Angara. A
moving panorama was displayed on both sides of the river,
and by an optical illusion it appeared as if it was the raft
which was motionless before a succession of picturesque
scenes. Here were high granite cliffs, there wild gorges
down which rushed a torrent; sometimes appeared a clear-
303 MICHAEL STROGOFF.
ing with a still smoking village, then thick pine forests
blazing. But though the Tartars had left their traces on
all sides, they themselves were not to be seen as yet, for
they were more especially massed at the approaches to
Irkutsk.
All this time the pilgrims were repeating their prayers
aloud, and the old boatman, shoving away the blocks of
ice which pressed too near them, imperturbably steered the
raft in the middle of the rapid current of the Angara.
BKTWEEN TWO BANKS. 3u9
CHAPTER XL
BETWEEN TWO BANKS.
By eight in the evening the country, as the state of tne
sky had foretold, was enveloped in complete darkness. The
moon being new had not yet risen. From the middle of
the river the banks were invisible. The cliffs were con-
founded with the heavy, low-hanging clouds. At intervals
a puff of wind came from the east, but it soon died away
in the narrow valley of the Angara,
The darkness could not fail to favor in a considerable
degree the plans of the fugitives. Indeed, although the
Tartar outposts must have been drawn up on both banks,
the raft had a good chance of passing unperceived. It was
not likely, either, that the besiegers would have barred the
river above Irkutsk, since they knew that the Russians
could not expect any help from the south of the province.
Besides this, before long Nature would herself establish a
barrier by cementing with frost the blocks of ice accumu-
lated between the two banks.
Perfect silence now reigned on board the raft.
The voices of the pilgrims were no longer heard. They
still prayed, but their prayer was but a murmur, which
could not reach as far as either bank. The fugitives lay
flat on the platform, so that the raft was scarcely above the
level of the water. The old boatman crouched down for-
ward among his men, solely occupied in keeping off the
ice blocks, a maneuver which was performed without
noise.
310 MICHAEL STROOOFF
The drifting of the ice was a favorable circumstance so
long as it did not oiler an insurmountable obstacle to the
passage of the raft. If that object had been alone on the
water, it would have run a risk of being seen, even in the
darkness, but as it was it was confounded with these mov-
ing masses, of all shape? and r;?e% r:r& the tumult caused
by the crashing of the blocks against each other concealed
likewise any suspicious noises.
There was a sharp frost. The fugitives suffered cruelly,
having no other shelter than a few branches of bir:h.
They cowered down together, endeavoring to keep each
other warm, the temperature being now ten degrees below
freezing-point. The wind, though slight, having passed
over the snow-clad mountains of the east, pierced them
through and through.
Michael and Nadia, lying in the after part of the raft,
bore this increase of suffering without complaint. Jolivet
and Blount, placed near them, stood these first assaults of
the Siberian winter as well as they could. Xo one now
spoke, even in a low voice. Their situation entirely ab-
sorbed them. At any moment an incident might occur, a
danger, a catastrophe even, from which they might not
escape unscathed.
For a man who hoped soon to accomplish his mission,
Michael was singularly calm. Even in the gravest con-
junctures his energy had never abandoned him. He already
saw the moment when he would be at last allowed to think
of his mother, of Nadia, of himself! He now only dreaded
one final and unhappy chance; this was that the raft might
be completely barred by ice before reaching Irkutsk. He
thought but of this, determined beforehand, if necessary,
to attempt some bold stroke.
Restored by a few hours' rest, Nadia had regained the
physical energy which misery had sometimes overcome,
although without ever having shaken her moral energy.
BETWEEN TWO BANKS. 311
She thought,, too, that if Michael had to make any fresh
effort to attain his end, she must be there to guide him.
But in proportion as she drew nearer to Irkutsk, the image
of her father rose more and more clearly before her mind.
She saw him in the invested town, far from those he loved,
but, as she never doubted, struggling against the invaders
with all the spirit of his patriotism. In a few hours, if
Heaven favored them, she would be in his arms, giving him
her mother's last words, and nothing should ever separate
them again. If the term of Wassili Fedor's exile should
never come to an end, his daughter would remain exiled
with him. Then, by a natural transition, she came back
to him who would have enabled her to see her father once
more, to that generous companion, that " brother " who,
the Tartars driven back, would retake the road to Moscow,
whom she would perhaps. never meet again!
As to Alcide Jolivet and Harry Blount, they had one
and the same thought, which was that the situation was
extremely dramatic, and that, well worked up, it would
furnish a most deeply interesting article. The English-
man thought of the readers of the Daily Telegraph and the
Frenchman of those of his Cousin Madeleine. At heart
both were not without feeling some emotion.
" Well, so much the better!" thought Alcide Jolivet;
"to move others, one must be moved one's self! I believe
there is some celebrated verse on the subject, but hang me
if I can recollect it!"
And with his well-practiced eyes he endeavored to pierce
the gloom which enveloped the river.
However, every now and then a burst of light, dispelling
the darkness for a time, exhibited the banks under some
fantastic aspect — either a forest on fire or a still burning
village, a sinister reproduction of the daylight scenes, with
the contrast of the night. The Angara was occasionally
illumined from one bank to the other. The blocks of ice
312 MICHAEL STROGOFF.
formed so many mirrors, which, reflecting the flames on
every point and in every color, were whirled along by the
caprice of the current. The raft passed unperceived in
the midst of these floating masses.
The danger was not at these points.
But a peril of another nature menaced the fugitives.
One that they could not foresee, and, above all, one that
they could not avoid. Chance discovered it to Alcide
Jolivet in this way: Lying at the right side of the raft, he
let his hand hang over into the water. Suddenly he was
surprised by the impression made on it by contact with the
surface of the current. It seemed to be of a slimy con-
sistency, as if it had been made of mineral oil.
Alcide, aiding his touch by his sense of smelling, could
not be mistaken. It was really a layer of liquid naphtha
floating on the surface of the river and flowing with it!
Was the raft really floating on this substance, which is
in the highest degree combustible? Where had this naph-
tha come from? Was it a natural phenomenon taking
place on the surface of the Angara, or was it to serve as an
engine of destruction, put in motion by the Tartars? Did
they intend to carry conflagration into Irkutsk by means
which the laws of war could never justify between civilized
nations?
Such were the questions which Alcide asked himself, but
he thought it best to make this incident known only to
Harry Blount, and they both agreed in not alarming their
companions by revealing to them this new danger.
It is known that the soil of Central Asia is like a sponge
impregnated with liquid hydrogen.
At the port of Bakou, on the Persian frontier, in the
peninsula of Abcheron, on the Caspian Sea, in Asia Minor,
in China, on the Yuen-Kiang, in the Burman Empire,
springs of mineral oil rise in thousands to the surface of
the ground. It is an " oil country " similar to the one
which bears this name in North America.
BETWEEN TWO BANKS. 313
During certain religious festivals, principally at the port
of Bakou, the natives, who are fire-worshipers, throw
liquid naphtha on the surface of the sea, which buoys it
up, its density being inferior to that of water. Then at
nightfall, when a layer of mineral oil is thus spread over
the Caspian, they light it, and exhibit the matchless spec-
tacle of an ocean of fire undulating and breaking into
waves under the breeze.
But what is only a sign of rejoicing at Bakou might
prove a fearful disaster on the waters of the Angara.
Whether it was set on fire by malevolence or imprudence,
in the twinkling of an eye a conflagration might spread
beyond Irkutsk.
On board the raft no imprudence was to be feared, but
everything was to be dreaded from the conflagrations on
both banks of the Angara, for should a lighted straw or
even a spark blow into the water, it would inevitably set
the whole current of naphtha in a blaze.
The apprehensions of Jolivet and Blount may be better
understood than described. Would it not be prudent, in
consequence of this new danger, to land on one of the
banks and wait there? they asked each other.
" At any rate," said Alcide, " whatever the danger may
be, I know some one who will not land I"
He alluded to Michael Strogoff.
In the mean time on glided the raft among the masses
of ice, which were gradually getting closer and closer to-
gether.
Up till then no Tartar detachment had been seen,
which showed that the raft was not abreast of the outposts.
At about ten o'clock, however, Harry Blount caught sight
of a number of black objects moving . on the ice blocks.
Springing from one to the other, they rapidly approached.
"Tartars!" he thought.
And creeping up to the old boatman, he pointed out to
him the suspicious objects.
314 MICHAEL STHOGOFF.
The old man looked attentively.
" They are only wolves!" said he. "I like them better
than Tartars. But we must defend ourselves, and without
noise!
The fugitives would indeed have to defend themselves
against these ferocious beasts, whom hunger and cold had
sent roaming through the province. They had smelt out
the raft and would soon attack it. The fugitives must
struggle, but without using firearms, for they could not
now be far from the Tartar posts.
The women and children were collected in the middle of
the raft, and the men, some armed with poles, others with
their knives, but the most part with sticks, stood prepared
to repulse their assailants. They did not make a sound,
but the howls of the wolves filled the air.
Michael did not wish to remain inactive. He lay down
at the side attacked by the savage pack. He drew his
knife, and every time that a wolf passed within his reach
his hand found out the way to plunge his weapon into its
throat. Neither were Jolivet and Blount idle, but fought
bravely with the brutes. Their companions gallantly sec-
onded them. The battle was carried on in silence, al-
though many of the fugitives received severe bites.
The struggle did not appear as if it would soon termi-
nate. The pack was being continually reenforced from the
right bank of the Angara.
" This will never be finished!" said Alcide, brandishing
his dagger, red with blood.
In fact, half an hour after the commencement of the
attack the wolves were still coming in hundreds across the
ice.
The exhausted fugitives were evidently getting weaker.
The fight was going against them. At that moment a
group of ten huge wolves, raging with hunger, their eyes
glowing in the darkness like red-hot coals, sprang on to the
BETWEEN TWO BANKS. 315
raft. Jolivet and his companions threw themselves into
the midst of the fierce beasts, and Michael was finding his
way toward them, when a sudden change took place.
In a few moments the wolves had deserted not only the
raft, but also the ice on the river. All the black bodies
dispersed, and it was soon certain that they had in all haste
regained the shore.
Wolves, like other beasts of prey, require darkness for
their proceedings, and at that moment a bright light il
luminated the entire river.
It was the blaze of an immense fire. The whole of the
small town of Poshkavsk was burning. The Tartars were
indeed there, finishing their work. From this point they
occupied both banks beyond Irkutsk. The fugitives had
by this time reached the dangerous part of their voyage,
and they were still thirty versts from the capital.
It was now half-past eleven. The raft continued to glide
on among the ice, with which it was quite mingled, but
gleams of light sometimes fell upon it. The fugitives
stretched on the platform did not permit themselves to make
a movement by which they might be betrayed.
The conflagration was going on with frightful rapidity.
The houses, built of fir wood, blazed like torches — a hun-
dred and fifty flaming at once. With the crackling of the
fire was mingled the yells of the Tartars. The old boat-
man, getting a foot-hold on a near piece of ice, managed to
shove the raft toward the right bank, by doing which a
distance of from three to four hundred feet divided it from
the flames of Poshkavsk.
Nevertheless, the fugitives, lighted every now and then
by the glare, would have been undoubtedly perceived had
not the incendiaries been too much occupied in their work
of destruction.
It may be imagined what were the apprehensions of
Jolivet and Blount when they thought of the combustible
liquid on which the raft floated.
316 MICHAEL STROOOFF.
Sparks flew in millions from the houses, which resembled
so many glowing furnaces. They rose among the volumes
of smoke to a height of five or six hundred feet. On the
right bank the trees and cliffs exposed to the fire looked as
if they likewise were burning. A spark falling on the
surface of the Angara would be sufficient to spread the
flames along the current and to carry disaster from one
bank to the other. The result of this would in a short
time be the destruction of the raft and all those which it
carried.
But happily the breeze did not blow from that side. It
came from the east and drove the flames toward the left.
It was just possible that the fugitives would escape this
danger.
The blazing town was at last passed. Little by little
the glare grew dimmer, the crackling became fainter, and
the flames at last disappeared behind the high cliffs which
arose at an abrupt turn of the river.
By this time it was nearly midnight. The deep gloom,
again threw its protecting shadows over the raft. The Tar-
tars were there, going to and fro near the river. They could
not be seen, but they could be heard. The fires of the out-
posts burned brightly.
In the mean time it had become necessary to steer more
carefully among the blocks of ice.
The old boatman stood up and the mujiks resumed their
poles. They had plenty of work, the management of the
raft becoming more and more difficult as the river was fur-
ther obstructed.
Michael Strogoff had crept forward.
Alcide Jolivet followed him.
Both listened to what the old boatman and his men
were saying.
" Look out on the right!"
r>-
u There are blocks drifting on to us on the left!'
b
BETWEEN TWO BANKS. 317
" Fend! fend off with your boat-hook!"
" Before an hour is past we shall be stopped!"
" If it is God's will!" answered the old man. " Against
his will there is nothing to be done."
" You hear them?" said Alcide.
"Yes," replied Michael, "but God is with us!"
The situation became more and more serious. Should
the raft be stopped, not only would the fugitives not reach
Irkutsk, but they would be obliged to leave their floating
platform, for it would be very soon smashed to pieces in
the ice. The osier ropes would break, the fir trunks torn
asunder would drift under the hard crust, and the unhappy
people would have no refuge but the ice blocks themselves.
Then when day came they would be seen by the Tartars
and massacred without mercy!
Michael returned to the spot where Nadia was waiting
for him. He approached the girl, took her hand, and put
to her the invariable question: "Nadia, are you ready?"
to which she replied as usual:
"I am ready!"
For a few versts more the raft continued to drift
among the floating ice. Should the river narrow it
would soon form an impassable barrier. Already they
seemed to drift slower. Every moment they encountered
severe shocks or were compelled to make detours; now
to avoid running foul of a block, there to enter a channel of
which it was necessary to take advantage. At length the
stoppages became stili more alarming. There were only a
few more hours of night. Could the fugitives not reach
Irkutsk by five o'clock in the morning, they must lose all
hope of ever getting there at all.
At half-past one, notwithstanding all efforts, the raft
came up against a thick barrier and stuck fast. The ice,
which was drifting down behind it, pressed it still closer
and kept it motionless, as though it had been stranded.
318 MICHAEL STROGOFF.
At this spot the Angara narrowed, it being half its
usual breadth. This was the cause of the accumulation of
ice, which became gradually soldered together under the
double influence of tbe increased pressure and of the cold,
of which the intensity was redoubled. Five hundred feet
beyond the river widened again, and the blocks, gradually
detaching themselves from the floe, continued to drift
toward Irkutsk. It was probable that had the banks not
narrowed the barrier would not have formed, and the raft
would have been able to continue its course with the cur-
rent. But the misfortune was irreparable, and the fugi-
tives were compelled to give up all hope of attaining their
object.
Had they possessed the tools usually employed by whalers
to cut channels through the ice-fields— had they been able
to get through to where the river widened — they might
have been saved. But they had not a saw, not a pickax;
they had nothing which was capable of making the least
incision in the ice, made as hard as granite by the excessive
frost.
AVhat were they to do?
At that moment several shots on the right bank startled
the unhappy fugitives. A shower of balls fell on the raft.
The devoted passengers had been seen. Immediately after-
ward shots were heard fired from the left bank. The
fugitives, taken between two fires, became the mark of the
Tartar sharpshooters. Several were wounded, although in
the darkness it was only by chance that they were hit.
" Come, Xadia," whispered Michael in the young girl's
ear.
Without making a single remark, " ready for anything/'
Xadia took Michael's hand.
"We must cross the barrier/' he said in a low tone.
"Guide me, but let no one see us leave the raft."
Nadia obeyed. Michael and she glided rapidly over the
BETWEEN TWO BANKS. 319
floe in the obscurity, only broken now and again by the
flashes from the muskets.
Nadia crept along in front of Michael. The shot fell
around them like a tempest of hail and pattered on the ice.
Their hands were soon covered with blood from the sharp
and rugged ice over which they clambered, but still on they
went.
In ten minutes the other side of the barrier was
reached. There the waters of the Angara again flowed
freely. Several pieces of ice, detached gradually from the
floe, were swept along in the current down toward the
•t v ... - ,
Nadia guessed what Michael wished to attempt. One of
the blocks was only held on by a narrow strip.
" Come," said Nadia.
And the two crouched down together on the piece of ice,
which their weight immediately detached from the floe.
It began to drift. The river widened, the way was
open.
Michael and Nadia heard the shots, the cries of distress,
the yells of the Tartars. Then, little by little, the sounds
of agony and of ferocious joy grew faint in the distance.
" Our poor companions!" murmured Nadia.
For half an hour the current hurried along the block of
ice which bore Michael and Nadia. They feared every
moment that it would give way beneath them. Swept
along in the middle of the current, it was unnecessary to
give it an oblique direction until they drew near the quays
of Irkutsk.
Michael, his teeth tight set, his ear on the strain, did not
utter a word. Never had he been so near his object. He
felt that he was about to attain it.
Toward two in the morning a double row of lights glit-
tered on the dark horizon in which were confounded the
two banks of the Angara.
320 MICHAEL STROGOFF.
On the right hand were the lights of Irkutsk; on the left
the fires of the Tartar camp.
Michael Strogoff was not more than half a verst from the
town.
" At last!" he murmured.
But suddenly Nadia uttered a cry.
At the cry Michael stood up on the ice, which was
wavering. His hand was extended up the Angara. His
face, on which a bluish light cast a peculiar hue, became
almost fearful to look at, and then, as if his eyes had been
opened to the bright blaze :
"Ah!" he exclaimed, "then Heaven itself is against
us!"
tt
4
<Vh
IRKUTSK. 321
CHAPTEE XIL
IRKUTSK.
Irkutsk, the capital of Eastern Siberia, is a populous
town, containing in ordinary times thirty thousand inhab-
itants. On the right side of the Angara rises a hill, on
which are built numerous churches, a lofty cathedral, and
the dwellings of its inhabitants disposed in picturesque
disorder.
Seen at a distance, from the top of the mountain which
rises at about twenty yersts off along the Siberian high-road,
this town, with its cupolas, its bell-towers, its steeples
slender as minarets, its domes like pot-bellied Chinese jars,
presents something of an Oriental aspect. But this
similarity vanishes as soon as the traveler enters.
The town, half-Byzantine, half-Chinese, becomes Euro-
pean as soon as he sees its macadamized roads, bordered
with pavements, traversed by canals, planted with gigantic
birches, its houses of brick and wood, some of which have
several stories, the numerous equipages which drive along,
not only tarantasses and telgas, but broughams and coaches;
lastly, its numerous inhabitants far advanced in the prog-
ress of civilization, and to whom the latest Paris fashions
are not unknown.
Being the refuge for all the Siberians of the province,
Irkutsk was at this time very full. Stores of every kind
had been collected in abundance. Irkutsk is the emporium
of the innumerable kinds of merchandise which are ex-
changed between China, Central Asia, and Europe. The
322 MICHAEL JSTMOOOFF.
authorities had therefore no fear with regard to admitting
the peasants of the valley of the Angara, Mongol-Khalkas,
Toungouzes, Bowets, and leaving a desert between the
invaders and the town.
Irkutsk is the residence of the Governor-General of
Eastern Siberia. Be]ow him acta ,?■ civil governor, in
whose hands is concentrated the administration of the
province; a head of police, who has much to do in a town
where exiles abound; and, lastly, a mayor, chief of the
merchants, and a person of some importance, froni h& im-
mense fortune and the influence which he exercises 0V6V
the people under him.
The garrison of Irkutsk was at that time composed of an
infantry regiment of Cossacks, consisting of two thousand
men, and a body of police wearing helmets and blue uni-
forms laced with silver.
Besides, as has been said, in consequence of the events
which had occurred, the brother of the czar had been shut
up in the town since the beginning of the invasion.
A journey of political importance had taken the grand
duke to these distant provinces of Central Asia.
After passing through the principal Siberian cities, the
grand duke, who traveled en mil if aire rather than en prince,
without any parade, accompanied by his officers and
escorted by a regiment of Cossacks, arrived in the trans-
bai'kalcine provinces. Kikolaevsk, the last Russian town
situated on the shore of the Sea of Okhotsk, had been
honored by a visit from him.
Arrived on the confines of the immense Muscovite
Empire, the grand duke was returning toward Irkutsk, from
which place he intended to retake the road to Moscow,
when, sudden as a thunder-clap, came the news of the
invasion.
He hastened to the capital, but only reached it just be-
fore communication with Russia had been interrupted,
IRKUTSK. 323
There was time to receive only a few telegrams from St.
Petersburg and Moscow, and with difficulty to answer them
before the wire was cut, under circumstances already
related.
Irkutsk was isolated from the rest of the world.
The grand duke had now only to prepare for resistance,
and this he did with that determination and coolness
of which, under other circumstances, he had given incon-
testable proofs.
The news of the taking of Ishim, Omsk, and Tomsk
successively reached Irkutsk.
It was necessary at any price to save the capital of
Siberia. Reenforcements could not be expected for some
time. The few troops scattered about in the provinces of
the Amoor and in the government of Yakutsk could not
arrive in sufficiently large numbers to arrest the progress
of the Tartar columns. Since, therefore, it was impossible
for Irkutsk to escape an investment, the most important
thing to be done was to put the town in a state to sustain
a siege of some duration.
The preparations were begun on the day Tomsk fell
into the hands of the Tartars. At the same time with this
last news, the grand duke heard that the Emir of Bokhara
and the allied khans were directing the invasion in person,
but what he did not know was that the lieutenant of these
barbarous chiefs was [van Ogareff, a Russian officer whom
Ik; had himself reduced to the ranks, but witli whose person
he was not acquainted.
First of all, as we have seen, the inhabitants of the
province of Irkutsk were compelled to abandon the towns
and villages. Those who did not take refuge in the capital
had to retire beyond Lake Baikal, a district to which the
invasion would probably not extend its ravages. The
harvests of corn and fodder were collected and stored up
in the town, and Irkutsk, the last bulwark of the Musco-
324 MICHAEL STROQOFF.
vite power in the far East, was put in a condition to resist
the enemy for a lengthened period.
Irkutsk, founded in 1611, is situated at the confluence
of the Irkut and the Angara, on the right bank of the
latter river. Two wooden bridges, built on piles and
arranged so as to draw up for the purposes of navigation,
connected the town with its suburbs on the left bank. On
this side defense wTas easy. The suburbs were abandoned,
the bridges destroyed. The Angara being here very wide,
it would not be possible to pass it under the fire of the
besieged.
But the river might be crossed both above and below the
town, and consequently Irkutsk ran a risk of being attacked
on its east side, on which there was no wall to protect it.
The whole population wTere immediately set to wrork on
the fortifications. They labored day and night. The
grand duke observed with satisfaction the zeal exhibited
by the people in the wTork, and whom ere long he would
find equally courageous in the defense. Soldiers, merchants,
exiles, peasants, all devoted themselves to the common
safety. A week before the Tartars appeared on the
Angara earthworks had been raised. A fosse, flooded by
the waters of the Angara, was dug between the scarp
and counterscarp. The town could not now be taken by a
coup de main. It must be invested and besieged.
The third Tartar column — the one which came up the
valley of the Yenisei on the 24th of September — appeared
in sight of Irkutsk. It immediately occupied the deserted
suburbs, every building in which had been destroyed so as
not to impede the fire of the grand duke's guns, unfor-
tunately but few in number and of small caliber.
The Tartar troops as they arrived organized a camp on
the bank of the Angara while waiting the arrival of the
two other columns, commanded by the emir and his allies.
The junction of these different bodies was effected on
IRKUTSK. 325
the 25th of September in the Angara camp, and the whole
of the invading army, except the garrisons left in the
principal conquered towns, was concentrated under the
command of Feofar-Khan.
The passage of the Angara in front of Irkutsk having
been regarded by Ogareff as impracticable, a strong body
of troops crossed, several versts up the river, by means of
bridges formed with boats.
The grand duke did not attempt to oppose the enemy in
their passage. He could only impede, not prevent it, having
no field-artillery at his disposal, and he therefore remained
in Irkutsk.
The Tartars now occupied the right bank of the river;
then, advancing toward the town, they burned, in passing,
the summer-house of the governor-general, and at last,
] laving entirely invested Irkutsk, took up their positions
for the siege.
Ivan Ogareff, who was a clever engineer, was perfectly
competent to direct a regular siege, but he did not possess
the materials for operating rapidly. He was disappointed,
too, in the chief object of all his efforts — the surprise of
Irkutsk.
Things had turned out differently to what his calcula-
tions had led him to expect. First, the march of the
Tartar army was delayed by the battle of Tomsk, and,
secondly, the preparations for the defense were made far
more rapidly than he had supposed would be the case;
these two things had been enough to balk his plans. He
was now under the necessity of instituting a regular siege of
the town.
However, by his suggestion the emir twice attempted the
capture of the place, at the cost of a large sacrifice of men.
He threw soldiers on the earthworks which presented any
weak point, but these two assaults were repulsed with
the greatest courage. The grand duke and his officers did
326 MICHAEL STROGOFF.
not spare themselves on this occasion. They appeared in
person; they led the civil population to the ramparts.
Citizens and peasants both did their duty.
At the second attack the Tartars managed to force one
of the gates. A fight took place at the head of Bolchaia
Street, two versts long, which abuts on the banks cf the
Angara. But the Cossacks, the police, and the citizens
united in so tierce a resistance that the Tartars were com-
pelled to withdraw.
Ivan Ogareff then thought of obtaining by stratagem
what he could not gain by force.
We have said that his plan was to penetrate into the
town, to make his way to the grand duke, to gain his con-
fidence, and when the time came to give up the gates to
the besiegers; and that done, to wreak his vengeance on the
brother of the czar.
The Tsigane Sangarre, who had accompanied him to the
Angara camp, urged him to put this plan in execution.
Indeed, it was necessary to act without delay.
The Russian troops from the government of Yakutsk
were advancing toward Irkutsk. They had concentrated
on the upper course of the Lena and were marching up its
valley. In six days they would arrive. Therefore before
six days had passed Irkutsk must be betrayed.
Ivan Ogareff hesitated no longer.
One evening, the 2d of October, a council of war was
eld in the grand saloon of the palace of the governor-
general. It was there the grand duke resided.
This palace, standing at the end of Bolchaia Street, over-
looked the river for some distance. From the windows of
its principal facade could be seen the camp of the Tartars,
and had they possessed guns of a wider range than those
they had brought with them, they would have rendered the
palace uninhabitable.
The grand duke, General Yoranzoff, the governor of the
IRKUTSK. 327
town, and the chief of the merchants, with several officers,
had collected to determine upon various proposals.
" Gentlemen," said the grand duke, "you know our
situation exactly. I have the firm hope that we shall be
able to hold out until the arrival of the Yakutsk troops.
We shall then be able to drive off these barbarian hordes,
and it will not be my fault if they do not pay dearly for
this invasion of the Muscovite territory."
" Your highness knows that all the population of Irkutsk
may be relied on," said General Voranzoff.
" Yes, general," replied the grand duke, "and I do
justice to their patriotism. Thanks to God, they have not
yet been subjected to the horrors of epidemic and famine,
and I have reason to hope that they will escape them; but
I cannot admire their courage on the ramparts enough.
You hear my words, Sir Merchant, and I beg you to repeat
such to them."
"I thank your highness in the name of the town," an-
swered the merchant chief. "May I ask you what is the
most distant date when we may expect the relieving
army?"
" Six days at most, sir," replied the grand duke. "A
brave and clever messenger managed this morning to get
into the town, and he told me that fifty thousand Russians
trader General Kisselef are advancing by forced marches.
Two days ago they were on the banks of the Lena, at
Kirensk, and now neither frost nor snow will keep them
back. Fifty thousand good men, taking the Tartars on the
flank, will soon set us free."
" I will add," said the chief of the merchants, " that we
shall be ready to execute your orders any day that your
highness may command a sortie."
" Good, sir," replied the grand duke "Wait till the
heads of the relieving columns appear on the heights, and
we will speedily crush these invaders."
323 MICHAEL STROGOFF.
Then turning to General Voranzoff:
" To-morrow," said he, " we will visit the works on the
right bank. Ice is drifting down the Angara, which will
not be long in freezing, andin that case the Tartars might
perhaps cross."
" Will your highness allow me to make an observation?"
said the chief of the merchants.
" Do so, sir."
" I have more than once seen the temperature fall to
thirty and forty degrees below zero, and the Angara has
still carried down drifting ice without entirely freezing.
This is no doubt owing to the swiftness of its current. If,
therefore, the Tartars have no other means of crossing the
river, I can assure your highness that they will not enter
Irkutsk in that way."
The governor-general confirmed this assertion.
" It is a fortunate circumstance," responded the grand
duke. " Nevertheless we must hold ourselves ready for
any emergency."
He then, turning toward the head of the police, asked:
" Have you nothing to say to me, sir?"
' ' I have to make known to your highness," answered
the head of police, " a petition which is addressed to you
through me."
" Addressed by "
" By the Siberian exiles, who, as your highness knows,
are in the town to the number of five hundred."
The political exiles, distributed over the province, had
been collected in Irkutsk from the beginning of the inva-
sion. They had obeyed the order to rally in the town and
leave the villages where they exercised their different
professions, some doctors, some professors, either at the
Gymnasium, or at the Japanese School, or at the School
of Navigation. The grand duke, trusting like the czar in
their patriotism, had armed them, and they had thoroughly
proved their bravery
IRKUTSK. 329
" What do the exiles ask?" said the grand duke.
" They ask the consent of your highness/' answered the
head of police, "to their forming a special corps and being
placed in the front of the first sortie."
" Yes/' replied the grand duke with an emotion which
he did not seek to hide, "these exiles are Eussians, and it
is their right to fight for their country !"
"I believe I may assure your highness," said the
governor-general, "that you will not have any better
soldiers."
" But they must have a chief," said the grand duke.
" Who will he be?"
" They wish to recommend to your highness," said the
head of police, " one of their number, who has distinguished
himself on several occasions."
"Is he a Russian?'
"Yes, a Russian from the Baltic provinces."
"His name?"
"Wassili Fedor."
This exile was Nadia's father.
Wassili Fedor, as we have already said, followed his pro-
fession of a medical man in Irkutsk. He was clever and
charitable and also possessed the greatest courage and most
sincere patriotism. All the time which he did not devote
to the sick he employed in organizing the defense. It was
he who had united his companions in exile in the common
cause.
The exiles, untill then mingled with the population,
had behaved in such a way as to draw on themselves the at-
tention of the grand duke. In several sorties they had
paid with their blood their debt to holy Russia— holy as
they believe and adored by her children! Wassili Fedor
had behaved heroically. His name had been mentioned
several times, but he never asked either thanks or favors,
and when the exiles of Irkutsk thought of forming them-
330 % MICHAEL STROQOFF.
selves into a special corps, he was ignorant of their having
any intention of choosing him for their captain.
When the head of police mentioned this name, the grand
duke answered that it was not unknown to him.
" Indeed/' remarked General Yoranzoff, " Wassili Fedor
is a man of worth and courage. His influence over his
companions has always been very great."
"How long has he been at Irkutsk?" asked the grand
duke.
"For two years."
" And his conduct?"
" His conduct," answered the head of police, " is that
of a man obedient to the special laws which govern him."
" General," said the grand duke, "be good enough to
present him to me immediately."
The orders of the grand duke were obeyed, and before
half an hour had passed Wassili Fedor was introduced into
his presence.
He was a man of forty years or more, tall, of a stern and
sad countenance. One felt that his whole life was summed
up in one single word — strife — and that he had striven and
suffered. His features bore a marked resemblance to those
of his daughter, Nadia Fedor.
This Tartar invasion had severely wounded him in his
tenderest affections and ruined the hope of the father
exiled eight thousand versts from his native town. A
letter had apprised him of the death of his wife and at the
same time of the departure of his daughter, who had
obtained from the government an authorization to join him
at Irkutsk.
Nadia must have left Riga on the 10th of July. The in-
vasion had begun on the 15th of July; if at that time
Nadia had passed the frontier, what could have become of
her in the midst of the invaders? The anxiety of the
IRKUTSK. 331
unhappy father may be supposed when from that time he
had no further news of his daughter.
Wassili Fedor entered the presence of the grand duke,
bowed, and waited to be questioned.
" Wassili Fedor," said the grand duke, "your compan-
ions in exile have asked to be allowed to form a select
corps. 'They are not ignorant that in this corps they must
make up their minds to be killed to the last man?"
" They are noo lgnoiant of it/* replied Fedor.
"They wish to have you for their captain."
"I, your highness?"
"Do you consent to be placed at their head?"
"Yes, if it is for the good of Russia."
"Captain Fedor," said the grand duke, "you are no
longer an exile."
" Thanks, your highness, but can I command those who
are so still?"
" They are so no longer!"
The brother of the czar had granted a pardon to all his
companions in exile, now his companions in arms!
Wassili Fedor wrung, with emotion, the hand which the
grand duke held out to him and retired.
The latter, then turning to his officers, said, smiling:
"The czar will not refuse to ratify that pardon. We
need heroes to defend the capital of Siberia, and I have
just made some."
This pardon, so generously accorded to the exiles of
Irkutsk, was indeed an act of real justice and sound policy.
It was now night. Through the windows of the palace
burned the fires of the Tartar camp, flickering beyond the
Angara. Down the river drifted numerous blocks of ice,
some of which stuck on the piles of the old bridges; others
were swept along by the current with great rapidity. It
was evident, as the merchant had observed, that it would
be very difficult for the Angara to freeze all over. The
332 MICHAEL STROGOFF.
defenders of Irkutsk had not to dread being attacked on
that side.
Ten o'clock had just struck. The grand duke was about
to dismiss his officers and retire to his own apartments,
when a tumult was heard outside the palace.
Almost immediately the door was thrown open, an aid-
de-camp appeared, and advancing toward the grand duke
he said:
" Your highness, a courier from the czar!"
THE CZA R '£ CO URIER. 333
CHAPTER XIII.
THE CZAE'S COURIER.
All the members of the council simultaneously started
forward. A courier from the czar arrived in Irkutsk!
Had these officers for a moment considered the improba-
bility of this fact, they would certainly not have credited
what they heard.
The grand duke advanced quickly to his aid-de-camp.
"This courier!" he exclaimed.
A man entered. He appeared exhausted with fatigue.
He wore the dress of a Siberian peasant, worn into tatters
and exhibiting several shot-holes. A Muscovite cap was
on his head. His face was disfigured by a recently healed
scar. The man had evidently had a long and painful
journey, his shoes being in a state which showed that he
had been obliged to make part of it on foot.
" His highness the grand duke?" he said as he entered.
The grand duke went up to him.
" You are a courier from the czar?" he asked.
" Yes, your highness."
" You come "
" From Moscow."
" You left Moscow "
"On the 15 th of July."
"Your name?"
"Michael Strogorr."
It was Ivan Ogureff. He had taken the designation of
the man whom he believed that lie had rendered powerless.
334 MICHAEL STROQOFF.
Neither the grand duke nor any one knew him in Irkutsk,
and he had not even to disguise his features. As he was
in a position to prove his pretended identity, no one could
have any reason for doubting him. He came, therefore,
sustained by his iron will, to hasten by treason and assassi-
nation the great object of the invasion.
After Ogaren0 had replied, the grand duke signed to all
his officers to withdraw.
He and the false Michael Strogoff remained alone in the
saloon.
The grand duke looked at Ivan Ogarelf for some mo-
ments with extreme attention. Then said he:
" On the 15th of July you were at Moscow?"
" Yes, your highness; and on the night of the 14th I
saw his majesty the czar at the New Palace."
"Have you a letter from the czar?"
" Here it is."
And Ivan Ogarelf handed to the grand duke the imperial
letter, reduced to almost microscopic dimensions.
" Was the letter given to you in this state?" asked the
grand duke.
" No, your highness, but I was obliged to tear the en-
velope, the better to hide it from the emir's soldiers. "
" Were you taken prisoner by the Tartars?"
"Yes, your highness, I was their prisoner for several
days," answered Ogareff. " Such was the reason that,
having left Moscow on the 15th of July, as the date of that
letter shows, I only reached Irkutsk on the 2d of October,
after traveling seventy-nine days."
The grand duke took the letter. He unfolded it and
recognized the czar's signature, preceded by the decisive
formula written by his brother's baud. There was no pos-
sible doubt of the authenticity of this letter nor of i he
identity of the courier. Though Ogareff's countenance
had at first inspired the grand duke with some distrust, lie
let nothing of it appear and it soon vanished.
THE CZA li '8 GO UR1ER. 335
The grand duke remained for a few minutes without
speaking. He read the letter slowly, so as to take in its
meaning fully.
" Michael Strogoff, do you know the contents of this
letter?" he asked.
' ' Yes, your highness. I might have been obliged to de-
stroy it to prevent its falling into the hands of the Tartars,
and should such have been the case, I wished to be able to
bring the contents of it to your highness."
" You know that this letter enjoins us all to die rather
than give up the town?"
" I know it."
" You know also that it informs me of the movements
of the troops which have combined to stop the invasion?"
" Yes, your highness, but these movements have not
succeeded."
"What do you mean?"
" I mean that Ishim, Omsk, Tomsk, to speak only of the
more important towns of the two Siberias, have been suc-
cessively occupied by the soldiers of Feofar-Khan."
" But there has been fighting. Have not our Cossacks
met the Tartars?"
" Several times, your highness."
" And they were repulsed?"
" They were not in sufficient force to oppose the enemy."
" Where did the encounters of which you speak take
place ?"
" At Kalyvan, at Tomsk "
Until now Ogareff had only spoken the truth, but in the
hope of troubling the defenders of Irkutsk by exaggerating
the advantages gained by the emir's troops he added:
" And a third time before Krasnoiarsk."
" And what of this last engagement?" asked the grand
duke, through whose compressed lips the words could
scarcely pass,
336 MICHAEL STROGOFF.
" It was more than an engagement, your highness/'
answered Ogareff; " it was a battle."
" A battle?"
" Twenty thousand Russians, from the frontier provinces
and the government of Tobolsk, engaged with a hundred
and fifty thousand Tartars, and notwithstanding their
courage were overwhelmed."
" You lie!" exclaimed the grand duke, endeavoring in
vain to curb his passion.
" I speak the truth, your highness," replied Ivan
Ogareff coldly. " I was present at the battle of Kras-
noiarsk, and it was there I was made prisoner!"
The grand duke grew calmer, and by a significant ges-
ture he gave Ogareff to understand that he did not doubt
his veracity.
" What day did this battle of Krasnoiarsk take place?"
he asked.
" On the 2d of September."
" And now all the Tartar troops are concentrated around
Irkutsk?"
"All."
"And you estimate them "
"At about four hundred thousand men."
Another exaggeration of Ogareff *s in the estimate of the
Tartar army, with the same object as before in view.
" And I must not expect any help from the west prov-
inces?" asked the grand duke.
" None, your highness — at any rate before the end of the
winter. "
" Well, hear this, Michael Strogoff. Though I must ex-
pect no help either from the east or from the west, even
were these barbarians six hundred thousand strong I will
never give up Irkutsk!"
Ogareff's evil eye slightly contracted. The traitor
thought to himself that the brother of the czar did not
reckon the result of treason.
THE CZAR 'S CO URIER. 337
The grand duke, who was of a nervous temperament, had
great difficulty in keeping calm while hearing this dis-
astrous news. He walked to and fro in the room under
the gaze of Ogareff, who eyed him as a victim reserved for
his vengeance. He stopped at the windows; he looked
forth at the fires in the Tartar camp; he listened to the
various noises which, for the most part, were occasioned by
the crashing of the ice blocks drifting down the Angara.
A quarter of an hour passed without his putting any
more questions. Then taking up the letter he reread a
passage and said:
" You know, Michael StrogofT, that in this letter I am
warned of a traitor, of whom I must beware?"
" Yes, your highness."
" He will try to enter Irkutsk in disguise, gain my con-
fidence, and when the time comes betray the town to the
Tartars."
" I know all that, your highness, and I know also that
Ivan Ogareff has sworn to revenge himself personally on
the czar's brother."
"Why?"
" It is said that the officer in question was condemned
by the grand duke to a humiliating degradation."
"Yes, I remember. But it is a proof that the villain,
who could afterward serve against his country and head an
invasion of barbarians, deserved it."
" His majesty the czar," said Ogareff, "was particularly
anxious that you should be warned of the criminal projects
of Ivan Ogareff against your person."
" Yes; of that the letter informs me."
" And his majesty himself spoke to me of it, telling me
that in my journey across Siberia I was above all things to
beware of the traitor."
" Did you meet with him?"
" Yes, your highness, after the battle of KrasnoiarsK.
338 MTCHAEL STROGOFP.
If he had only guessed that I was the bearer of a letter
addressed to your highness in which his plans were re-
vealed, I should not have got off so easily."
" No; you would have been lost!" replied the grand duke.
" And how did you manage to escape?"
" By throwing myself into the Irtish."
" And how did you enter Irkutsk?"
" Under cover of a sortie which was made this evening tc
repulse a Tartar detachment. I mingled with the defenders
of the town, made myself known, and was immediately
conducted before your highness."
" Good, Michael Strogoff," answered the grand duke.
"You have shown courage and zeal in your difficult mis-
sion. I will not forget you. Have you any favor to ask
of me?"
" None; unless it is to be allowed to fight at the side of
your highness," replied Ogareff.
"So be it, Strogoff. I attach you from to-day to my
person, and you shall be lodged in the palace."
"And if, according to his intention, Ivan Ogareff should
present himself to your highness under a false name?"
" We will unmask him, thanks to you, who know him,
and I will make him die under the knout. Go!"
Ivan Ogareff gave a military salute, not forgetting that
he was captain of the corps of couriers of the czar, and
retired.
Ogareff had so far played his unworthy part with suc-
cess. The grand duke's full and entire confidence had
been accorded him. He could now betray it whenever it
suited him. He would inhabit the very palace. He would
be in the secret of all the operations for the defense of the
town. He thus held the situation in his hand, as it were.
No one in Irkutsk knew him, no one could snatch off his
mask. He resolved therefore to set to work without
delay.
THE CZAR 'S CO V1UER. 339
Indeed, time pressed. The town must be given up be-
fore the arrival of the Russians from the north and east,
and that was only a question of a few days. The Tartars
once masters of Irkutsk, it would not be easy to take it
again from them. At any rate, even if they were obliged
to abandon it later, they would not do so before they had
utterly destroyed it and before the head of the grand duke
had rolled at the feet of Feofar-Khan.
Ivan Ogareff, having every facility for seeing, observing,
and acting, occupied himself t*he next day with visiting the
ramparts. He was everywhere received with cordial con-
gratulations from officers, soldiers, and citizens. To them
this courier from the czar was a link which connected them
with the empire.
Ogareff recounted, with an assurance which never failed,
numerous fictitious events of his journey. Then, with the
cunning for which he was noted, without dwelling too
much on it at first, he spoke of the gravity of the situation,
exaggerating the success of the Tartars and the numbers of
the barbarian forces, as he had when speaking to the grand
duke. According to him, the expected succors would be
insufficient, if ever they arrived at all, and it was to be
feared that a battle fought under the '..alls of Irkutsk
would be as fatal as the battles of Kalyvan, Tomsk, and
Krasnoiarsk.
Ogareff was not too free in these insinuations. He wished
to allow them to sink gradually into the minds of the de-
fenders of Irkutsk. He pretended only to answer with
reluctance when much pressed with questions. He always
added that they must fight to the last man and blow up the
town rather than yield!
These false statements would have done more harm had
it been possible; but the garrison and the population of Ir-
kutsk were too patriotic to let themselves be moved. Of
all the soldiers and citizens shut up in this town, isolated
340 MICHAEL STROGOFF.
at the extremity of the Asiatic world, not one dreamed of
even speaking of a capitulation. The contempt of the
Russians for these barbarians was boundless.
~No one suspected the odious part played by Ivan
Ogareff; no one guessed that the pretended courier of the
czar was a traitor. It occurred very naturally that on his
arrival in Irkutsk a frequent intercourse was established
between Ogareff and one of the bravest defenders of the
town, Wassili Fed or. We know what anxiety this unhap-
py father suffered. If his daughter, Nadia Fed or, had left
Russia on the date fixed by the last letter he had received
from Riga, what had become of her? Was she still trying
to cross the invaded provinces or had she long since been
taken prisoner? The only alleviation to Wassili Fedor's
anxiety was when he could obtain an opportunity of en-
gaging in battle with the Tartars — opportunities which
came too seldom for his taste.
When, therefore, Wassili Fedor heard of the unexpected
arrival of a courier from the czar, he had a hope that he
might gain information from him of his daughter. It was
probably but a chimerical hope, but he dwelt upon it.
Had not this courier been himself a prisoner, as perhaps
Nadia now was?
Wassili Fedor sought out Ogareff, who seized the oppor-
tunity of forming an intimacy with the captain. Did the
renegade expect to turn this circumstance to account? Did
he judge all men by himself? Did he believe that a Rus-
sian, even though a political exile, could be base enough to
betray his country?
However that might be, Ogareff replied with cleverly
feigned warmth to the advances made to him by Nadia's
father. The very evening the pretended courier arrived
Wassili Fedor went to the governor-general's palace, and
acquainting Ogareff with the circumstances under which
his daughter must have left European Russia, told him all
his uneasiness about her.
THE CZA R 'S GO TIR TER. 341
Ivan Ogareff did not know Nadia, although he had met
her at Ishim on the day she was there with Michael Stro-
goff ; but, then, he had not paid more attention to her than
to the two reporters, who at the same time were in the
post-honse; he therefore could give Wassili Fedor no news
of his daughter.
" But at what time," asked Ogareff, "must your daugh-
ter have left the Eussian territory?"
"About the same time that you did," replied Wassili
Fedor.
" I left Moscow on the 15th of July."
" Nadia must also have quitted Moscow at that time.
Her letter told me so expressly."
"She was in Moscow on the 15th of July?" asked
Ogareff.
"Yes, certainly, by that date."
" Well " answered Ogareff.
Then he continued:
" But no, I am mistaken. I was confusing dates. Un-
fortunately, it is too probable that your daughter must
have passed the frontier, and you can only have one hope,
that she stopped on learning the news of the Tartar in-
vasion!"
The father's head fell. He knew Nadia, and he knew
too well that nothing would have prevented her from set-
ting out.
Ivan Ogareff had just committed gratuitously an act of
real cruelty. With a word he might have "eassured Fedor.
Although Nadia had passed the frontier under circum-
stances with which we are acquainted, Wassili Fedor, by
comparing the date on which his daughter would have
been at Nijni-Novgorod and the date of the proclamation
which forbade any one to leave it, would no doubt have
concluded thus: that Nadia had not been exposed to the
dangers of the invasion, and that she was still, in >spite of
herself, in the European territory of the empire.
342 MICHAEL STROGOFF
Ivan Ogareff, obedient to his nature — that of a man who
was never touched by the sufferings of others — might have
said that word. He did not say it.
Wassili Fedor retired with his heart broken. In that
interview his last hope was crushed.
During the two following days, the 3d and 4th of Octo-
ber, the grand duke often spoke to the pretended Michael
Strogoff, and made him repeat all that he had heard in the
imperial cabinet of the New Palace. Ogareff, prepared for
all these questions, replied without the least hesitation.
He intentionally did not conceal that the czar's government
had been utterly surprised by the invasion; that the insur-
rection had been prepared in the greatest possible secrecy;
that the Tartars were already masters of the line of the
Obi when the news reached Moscow; and, lastly, that none
of the necessary preparations were completed in the Rus-
sian provinces for sending into Siberia the troops requisite
for repulsing the invaders.
Ivan Ogareff, being entirely free in his movements,
began to study Irkutsk, the state of its fortifications and
their weak points, so as to profit subsequently by his
observations in the event of being prevented by some oc-
currence from consummating his act of treason. He
examined particularly the Bolchaia Gate, the one he
wished to deliver up.
Twice in the evening he came upon the glacis of this
gate. He walked up and down, without fear of being
discovered by the besiegers, whose nearest posts were at
least a mile from the ramparts. He knew, therefore, that
he was exposed to no danger from them, and he fancied
that he was recognized by no one, till he caught sight
of a shadow gliding along at the foot of the earth-
works.
Sangarre had come at the risk of her life for the pur-
pose of endeavoring to put herself in communication with
Ivan Ogareff.
TTTK CZA R '8 GO URIER. 343
For two days the besieged had enjoyed a tranquillity
to which the Tartars had not accustomed them since the
commencement of the investment.
This was by Ogareffs orders. Feofar-Khan's lieutenant
wished that all attempts to take the town by force should
be suspended. Since, therefore, his arrival in Irkutsk the
guns had been silent. Perhaps, also, at least so he hoped,
the watchfulness of the besieged would relax. At any
rate, several thousand Tartars were kept in readiness at
the outposts to attack the gate, deserted, as Ogarerf
anticipated that it would be, by its defenders, whenever he
should summon the besiegsrs to the assault.
This he could not now delay in doing. All must be
over by the time that the Kussian troops should come in
Bight of Irkutsk. OgarefFs arrangements were made, and
on this evening a note fell from the top of the earthworks
into Sangarre's hands.
On the next day, that is to say during the hours of
darkness from the 5th to the 6th of October, at two
o'clock in the morning, Ivan Ogareff had resolved to
deliver up Irkutsk.
3 U MICH A EL STROGOFF.
CHAPTER XIV.
THE NIGHT OF THE FIFTH OF OCTOBER.
Ivan Ogareff's plan had been contrived with the great-
est care, and except for some unforeseen accident he be-
lieved that it must succeed. It was of importance that
the Bolchaia Gate should be free when he gave it up. The
attention of the besieged was therefore to be drawn to an-
other part of the town. A diversion was agreed upon with
the emir.
This diversion was to be effected on the suburban side of
Irkutsk, up and down the river on its right bank. The
attack on these two points was to be conducted in earnest,
and at the same time a feigned attempt at crossing the
Angara on the left bank was to be made. The Bolchaia
Gate would be probably deserted, so much the more be-
cause on this side the Tartar outposts having drawn back
would appear to have broken up.
It was the 5th of October. In twenty-four hours the
capital of Eastern Siberia would be in the hands of the
emir and the grand duke in the power of Ivan Ogareff.
During the day an unusual stir was going on in the Angara
camp. From the windows of the palace and the houses on
the right bank important preparations on the opposite
shore could be distinctly seen. Numerous Tartar detach-
ments were converging toward the camp and from hour to
hour reenforced the emir's troops. These movements, in-
tended to deceive the besieged, were conducted in the most
open manner possible before their eyes.
Ogareff had not concealed from the grand duke that an
THE NIGHT OF THE FIFTH OF OCTOBER. 345
attack on this side was to be feared. He knew, he said,
that an assault was to be made, both above and below the
town, and he counseled the duke to reenf orce the two more
directly threatened points.
These preparations were carried out in order to support
the advice given by Ogareff, which he was most urgent
should be taken into consideration. Accordingly, after a
council of war had been held in the palace orders were is-
sued to concentrate the defense on the right bank of the
Angara and at the two ends of the town, where the earth-
works protected the river.
This was exactly what Ogareff wished. He did not ex-
pect that the Bolchaia Gate would be left entirely without
defenders, but that there would only be a small number.
Besides, Ogareff meant to give such importance to the di-
version that the grand duke would be obliged to oppose it
with all his available forces.
In fact, an occurrence of exceptional gravity, designed by
Ogareff, was to afford its powerful aid to the accomplish-
ment of his design. Even had Irkutsk not been attacked
but on the distant point of the Bolchaia Gate and the right
bank of the river, this occurrence would be sufficient to
attract the whole mass of defenders exactly to the spot to
which Ogareff wished to draw them. His purpose was at
the same time to produce so frightful a catastrophe that
terror must inevitably overwhelm the hearts of the be-
sieged.
There was every chance that the gate, left free at the
time appointed, would be clear for the entrance of the
thousands of Tartars now concealed under cover of the
thick forest to the east.
All day the garrison and population of Irkutsk were on
the alert. The measures to repel an attack on the points
hitherto unassailed had been taken. The grand duke and
Genera] Yoranzoil visited the posts, strengthened by their
346 MICHAEL STROGOFF.
orders. Wassili Fedor's corps occupied the north of the
town, but with orders to throw themselves where the dan-
ger was greatest. The right bank of the Angara had been
protected with the few guns possessed by the defenders.
With these measures, taken in time, thanks to the advice
so opportunely given by Ivan Ogareff, there was good rea-
son to hope that the expected attack would be repulsed.
In that case the Tartars, momentarily discouraged, would
no doubt not make another attempt against the town for
several days. Now the troops expected by the grand duke
might arrive at any hour. The safety or the loss of
Irkutsk hung only by a thread.
On this day the sun, which had risen at twenty minutes
to six, set at forty minutes past five, having traced its
diurnal arc for eleven hours above the horizon. The
twilight would struggle with the night for another two
hours. Then it would be intensely dark, for the sky was
cloudy and there would be no moon.
This gloom would favor the plans of Ivan Ogareff.
For a few days already a sharp frost had given warning
of the approaching rigor of the Siberian winter, and this
evening it was especially severe. The soldiers posted on
the right bank of the Angara, obliged to conceal their
position, had lighted no fires. They suffered cruelly from
the low temperature. A few feet below them the ice in
large masses drifted down the current. All day these
masses had been seen passing rapidly between the two
banks.
This had been considered by the grand duke and his
officers as a fortunate circumstance.
Should the channel of the Angara continue to be thus
obstructed, the passage must be impracticable. The Tartars
could use neither rafts nor boats. As to supposing that
they could cross the river on the ice, that was not possible.
The newly frozen plain could not bear the weight of an
assaulting column.
THE NIGHT OF THE FIFTH OF OCTOBER. 347
But this circumstance, as it appeared favorable to the
defenders of Irkutsk, Ogareff might have regretted. He
did not do so, however.
The traitor knew well that the Tartars would not try to
pass the Angara, and that, on its side at least, their at-
tempt was only a feint.
About ten in the evening the state of the river sensibly
improved, to the great surprise of the besieged and still
more to their disadvantage. The passage, till then im-
practicable, became all at once possible. The bed of the
Angara was clear. The blocks of ice, which had for some
days drifted past in large numbers, disappeared down the
current, and five or six only now occupied the space
between the banks. They no longer presented even the
same structure as those formed under ordinary conditions
and by the influence of a regular frost. They were simple
pieces, torn off from some ice-field, smooth, and not rising
in rugged lumps.
The Russian officers reported this change in the state of
the river to the grand duke. They suggested that this
change was probably caused by the circumstance that in
some narrower part of the Angara the blocks had ac-
cumulated so as to form a barrier.
We know that such was the case.
The passage of the Angara was thus open to the
besiegers. There was greater reason than ever for the
Russians to be on their guard.
Up to midnight nothing had occurred. On the easterr
side, beyond the Bolchaia Gate, all was quiet. Not .
glimmer was seen in the dense forest, which appeared con-
founded on the horizon with the masses of clouds hanging
low down in the sky.
Lights flitting to and fro in the Angara camp showed
that a considerable movement was taking place.
From a verst above and below the point where the scarp
348 MICHAEL STROGOFF.
met the river's bank came a dull murmur proving that the
Tartars were on foot, expecting some signal.
An hour passed. Nothing new.
The bell of the Irkutsk cathedral was about to strike
two o'clock in the morning, and not a movement among
the besiegers had yet shown that they were about to com-
mence the assault.
The grand duke and his officers began to suspect that
they had been mistaken. Had it really been the Tartars'
plan to surprise the town? The preceding nights had not
been nearly so quiet — musketry rattling from the outposts,
shells whistling through the air; and this time, nothing.
The grand duke, General Voranzoff, and their aids-de-
camp waited, ready to give their orders according to cir-
cumstances.
We have said that Ogareff occupied a room in the palace.
It was a large chamber on the ground-floor, its windows
opening on a side terrace. By taking a few steps along
this terrace a view of the river could be obtained.
Profound darkness reigned in the room. Ogareff stood
by a window awaiting the hour to act. The signal, of
course, could come from him alone. This signal once
given, when the greater part of the defenders of Irkutsk
would be summoned to the points openly attacked, his plan
was to leave the palace and hurry to the accomplishment
of his work.
He now crouched in the shadow of the recess, like a wild
beast ready to spring on its prey.
A few minutes before two o'clock the grand duke desired
that Michael Strogoff — which was the only name they could
give to Ivan Ogareff — should be brought to him. An aid-
de-camp came to the room, the door of which was closed.
He called.
Ogareff, motionless near the window and invisible in the
shade, took good care not to answer.
THE NIGHT OF THE FIFTH OF OCTOBER. 349
The grand duke was therefore informed that the czar's
courier was not at that moment in the palace.
Two o'clock struck. Now was the time to cause the di-
version agreed upon with the Tartars waiting for [the
assault.
Ivan Ogareff opened the window and stationed himself
at the north angle of the side terrace.
Below him flowed the waters of the Angara, roaring as
they dashed round the broken piles. Ogareff took a match
from his pocket, struck it, and lighted a small bunch of
tow impregnated with priming powder, which he threw
into the river.
It was by the orders of Ivan Ogareif that the torrents
of mineral oil had been thrown on the surface of the
Angara!
There are numerous naphtha springs above Irkutsk, on
the right bank, between the suburb of Poshkavsk and the
town. Ogareff had resolved to employ this terrible means
to carry fire into Irkutsk. He therefore took possession of
the immense reservoirs which contained the combustible
liquid. It was only necessary to demolish a piece of wall
in order to allow it to flow out in a vast stream.
This had been done that night, a few hours previously,
and this was the reason that the raft which carried the
true courier of the czar, Nadia, and the fugitives floated
on a current of mineral oil. Through the breaches in these
l reservoirs of enormous dimensions rushed the naphtha in
torrents, and following the inclination of the ground it
spread over the surface of the river, where its density
allowed it to float.
This was the way Ivan Ogareff carried on warfare. Al-
lied with Tartars, he acted like a Tartar and against his
own countrymen!
The tow had been thrown on the waters of the Angara.
In an instant, with electrical rapidity, as if the current had
350 MICHAEL STROGOFF.
been of alcohol, the whole river was in a blaze above and
below the town. Columns of bine flames ran between the
uwo banks. Volumes of vapor curled up above. The
few pieces of ice which still drifted were seized by the
burning liquid and melted like wax on the top of a fur-
nace, the evaporated water escaping to the air in shrill
hisses.
At the same moment firing broke out on the north and
south of the town. The enemy's batteries discharged their
guns at random. Several thousand Tartars rushed to the
assault of the earthworks. The houses on the bank, built
of wood, took fire in every direction. A bright light dis-
sipated the darkness of the night.
"At last!" said Ivan Ogareff.
And he had good reason for congratulating himself.
The diversion which he had planned was terrible. The
defenders of Irkutsk found themselves between the attack
of the Tartars and the fearful effects of fire. The bells
rang and all the able-bodied of the population ran, some
toward the points attacked and others toward the houses
in the grasp of the flames, which it seemed too probable
would ere long envelop the whole town.
The Bolchaia Gate was nearly free. Only a very small
guard had been left there. And by the traitor's sugges-
tion, and in order that the event might be explained apart
from him and from political hate, this small guard had
been chosen from the little band of exiles.
Ogareff reentered his room, now brilliantly lighted
by the flames from the Angara; then he made ready to
go out.
But scarcely had he opened the door, when a woman
rushed into the room, her clothes drenched, her hair in
disorder.
"Sangarre!" exclaimed Ogareff, in the first moment of
surprise, and not supposing that it could be any other
woman than the gypsy.
THE NIGHT OF THE FIFTH OF OCTOBER. 351
It was not Sangarre; it was Nadia!
At the moment when, floating on the ice, the girl had
uttered a cry on seeing the fire spreading along the cur-
rent, Michael Strogoff had seized her in his arms and
plunged with her into the river itself to seek a refuge in
its depths from the flames. The block which bore them
was then not more than thirty fathoms from the first quay
below Irkutsk.
Swimming beneath the water, Michael managed to get
a footing with Nadia on the quay.
Michael Strogoff had reached his journey's end! He
was in Irkutsk !
"To the governor's palace!" said he to Nadia.
In less then ten minutes they arrived at the entrance to
the palace. Long tongues of flame from the Angara
licked its walls, but were powerless to set it on fire.
Beyond, the houses on the bank were in a blaze.
The palace being open to all, Michael and Nadia entered
without difficulty. In the general confusion no one re-
marked them, although their garments were dripping.
A crowd of officers coming for orders and of soldiers
running to execute them filled the great hall on the ground
floor. There, in a sudden eddy of the confused multitude,
Michael and the young girl were separated from each
other.
Kadia ran distracted through the passages, calling her
companion and asking to be taken to the grand duke.
A door into a room flooded with light opened before
her. She entered and found herself suddenly face to face
with the man whom she had met at Ishim, whom she had
seen at Tomsk; face to face with the one whose villainous
hand would an instant later betray the town!
" Ivan Ogareff !" she cried.
On hearing his name pronounced the wretch started.
His real name known, ail his plans would be balked.
352 MICHAEL STROGOFF.
There was but one thing to be done: to kill the person
who had just uttered it.
Ogareff darted at Nadia; but the girl, a knife in her
hand, retreated against the wall, determined to defend
herself.
"Ivan Ogareff!" again cried Nadia, knowing well that
so detested a name would soon bring her help.
"Ah! Be silent !" hissed out the traitor between his
clinched teeth.
"Ivan Ogareff!" exclaimed a third time the brave
young girl, in a voice to which hate had added tenfold
strength.
Mad with fury, Ogareff, drawing a dagger from his
belt, again rushed at Nadia and compelled her to retreat
into a corner of the room.
Her last hope appeared gone, when the villain, suddenly
lifted by an irresistible force, was dashed to the ground.
"Michael!" cried Nadia.
It was Michael Strogoff.
Michael had heard Nadia's call. Guided by her voice,
he had just in time reached Ivan OgarefFs room and en-
tered by the open door.
" Fear nothing, Nadia," said he, placing himself between
her and Ogareff.
"Ah!" cried the girl, "take care, brother! The traitor
is armed! He can see!"
Ogareff rose and, thinking he had an immeasurable ad-
vantage over the blind man, threw himself on him.
But with one hand the blind man grasped the arm of
his enemy, seized his weapon, and hurled him again to the
ground.
Pale with rage and shame, Ogareff remembered that he
wore a sword. He drew it from its scabbard and returned
a second time to the charge.
Michael Strogoff also knew him.
THE NIGHT OF THE FIFTH OF OCTOBER. 353
A blind man! Ogareff had only to deal with a blind
man! He was more than a match for him!
Nadia, terrified at the danger which threatened her
companion in so unequal a struggle, ran to the door calling
for help.
" Close the door, Nadia!" said Michael. " Call no one
and leave me alone! The czar's courier has nothing to
fear to-day from this villain! Let him come on if he
dares! I am ready for him."
In the mean time Ogareff, gathering himself together
like a tiger about to spring, uttered not a word. The noise
of his footsteps, his very breathing, he endeavored to con-
ceal from the ear of the blind man. His object was to strike
before his opponent was aware of his approach, to strike
him with a deadly blow. The traitor did not think of
fighting, but assassinating the man whose name he had
stolen.
Nadia, terrified and at the same time confident, watched
this terrible scene with involuntary admiration. Michael's
calm bearing seemed to have inspired her. Michael's sole
weapon was his Siberian knife. He did not see his adver-
sary armed with a sword, it is true; but Heaven's support
seemed to be afforded him. How, almost without stirring,
did he always face the point of the sword?
Ivan Ogareff watched his strange adversary with visible
anxiety. His superhuman calm had an effect upon him.
In vain, appealing to his reason, did he tell himself that in
so unequal a combat all the advantages were on his side.
The immobility of the blind man froze him. He had
settled on the place where he would strike his victim. He
had fixed upon it. What, then, hindered him from put-
ting an end to his blind antagonist?
At last, with a spring he drove his sword full at
Michael's breast.
An imperceptible movement of the blind man's knife
354 MICHAEL STROGOFF.
turned aside the blow. Michael had not been touched and
coolly he awaited a second attack.
Cold drops stood on OgarefTs brow. He drew back a
step, then again leaped forward. But, as had the first, this
second attempt failed. The knife had simply parried the
blow from the traitor's useless sword.
Mad with rage and terror before this living statue, he
gazed into the wide-open eyes of the blind man*. Those
eyes — which seemed to pierce to the bottom of his soul and
yet which did not, could not, see — exercised a sort of dread-
ful fascination over him.
All at once Ogareff uttered a cry. A sudden light
flashed across his brain.
"He sees!" he exclaimed, "he sees!"
And like a wild beast trying to retreat into its den, step
by step, terrified, he drew back to the end of the room.
Then the statue became animated, the blind man walked
straight up to Ivan Ogareff, and placing himself right
before him said:
" Yes, I see! I see the mark of the knout which I gave
you, traitor and coward! I see the place where lam about
to strike you! Defend your life! It is a duel I deign to
oifer you! My knife against your sword!"
"He sees!" said Nadia. "Gracious Heaven, is it
possible!"
Ogareff felt that he was lost. But mustering all his
courage he sprang forward on his impassible adversary.
The two blades crossed, but at a touch from Michael's knife,
wielded in the hand of the Siberian hunter, the sword flew
in splinters, and the wretch, stabbed to the heart, fell life-
less on the ground.
At the same moment the door was thrown open. The
grand duke, accompanied by some of his officers, appeared
on the threshold.
The grand duke advanced. In the body lying on the
TSE NIGH? OF THE FIFTH OF OCTOBER. 355
ground he recognized the man whom he believed to be the
czar's courier.
Then in a threatening voice he asked:
"Who killed that man?"
"I," replied Michael.
One of the officers put a pistol to his temple, ready to
fire.
"Your name?" asked the grand duke, before giving the
order for his brains to be blown out.
" Your highness," answered Michael, "ask me rather the
name of the man who lies at your feet!"
"That man — I know him! He is the servant of my
brother! He is the czar's courier!"
" That man, your highness, is not a courier of the czar!
He is Ivan Ogareff!"
" Ivan Ogareff!" exclaimed the grand duke.
"Yes, Ivan the Traitor!"
" But who are you, then?"
" Michael Strogoff !"
•JoG MICHAEL STROGOFF.
CHAPTER XV.
CONCLUSION.
Michael Strogoff was not, had never been, blind. A
purely human phenomenon, at the same time moral and
physical, had neutralized the action of the incandescent
blade which Feofar's executioner had passed before his
eyes.
It may be remembered that at the moment of the
execution Marfa Strogoff was present, stretching out her
hands toward her son. Michael gazed at her as a son
would gaze at his mother when it is for the last time.
The tears, which his pride in vain endeavored to subdue,
welling up from his heart, gathered under his eyelids, and
volatilizing on the cornea had saved his sight. The
vapor formed by his tears interposing between the
glowing saber and his eyeballs had been sufficient to
annihilate the action of the heat. A similar effect is pro-
duced when a workman smelter, after dipping his hand in
vapor, can with impunity hold it over a stream of melted
iron.
Michael had immediately understood the danger in
which he would be placed should he make known his
secret to any one. lie at once saw, on the other hand,
that he might make use of his supposed blindness for the
accomplishment of his designs. Because it was believed
that he was blind lie would be allowed to go free. He
must therefore be blind, blind to all, even to Nadia, blind
everywhere, and not a gesture at any moment must let the
CONCLUSION. 357
truth be suspected. His resolution was taken. He must
risk his life even to afford to all he might meet the proof
of his want of sight. We know how perfectly he acted the
part he had determined on.
His mother alone knew the truth, and he had whispered
it to her in Tomsk itself when, bending over her in the
dark, he covered her with kisses.
When Ogareff had in his cruel irony held the imperial
letter before the eyes which he believed were destroyed,
Michael had been able to read and had read the letter
which disclosed the odious plans of the traitor. This was
the reason of the wonderful resolution he exhibited during
the second part of his journey. This was the reason of his
unalterable longing to reach Irkutsk, so as to perform his
mission by word of mouth. He knew that the town would
be betrayed. He knew that the life of the grand duke
was threatened. The safety of the czar's brother and of
Siberia was in his hands.
This story was told in a few words to the grand duke,
and Michael repeated also — and with what emotion! — the
part Nadia had taken in these events.
" Who is this girl?" asked the grand duke.
" The daughter of the exile, Wassili Fedor," replied
Michael.
"The daughter of Captain Fedor," said the grand duke,
" has ceased to be the daughter of an exile. There are no
longer exiles in Irkutsk."
Nadia, less strong in joy than she had been in grief, fell
on her knees before the grand duke, who raised her with
one hand, while he extended the other to Michael.
An hour after Nadia was in her father's arms.
Michael Strogoff, Nadia, and Wassili Fedor wercunited.
This was the height of happiness to them all.
The Tartars had been repulsed in their double attack on
the town. Wassili Fedor, with his little band, had driven
358 MICHAEL STROGOFF
back the first assailants who presented themselves at the
Bolchaia Gate, expecting to find it open for them, and
which, by an instinctive feeling, often arising from sound
judgment, he had determined to remain at and defend.
At the same time as the Tartars were driven back the
besieged had mastered the fire. The liquid naphtha hav-
ing rapidly burnt to the surface of the water, the flames
did not go beyond the houses on the shore and left the
©ther quarters of the town uninjured.
Before daybreak the troops of Feofar-Khan had retreated
into their camp, leaving a large number of dead on and
below the ramparts.
Among the dead was the gypsy Sangarre, who had
vainly endeavored to join Ivan Ogareff.
For two days the besiegers attempted no fresh assault.
They were discouraged by the death of Ogareff. This man
was the mainspring of the invasion, and he alone, by his
plots long since contrived, had had sufficient influence over
the khans and their hordes to bring them to the conquest
©f Asiatic Russia.
However, the defenders of Irkutsk kept on their guard
and the investment still continued; but on the 7th of
October, at daybreak, cannon boomed out from the heights
around Irkutsk.
It was the succoring army under the command of
General Kisselef, and it was thus that he made known his
welcome arrival to the grand duke.
The Tartars did not wait to be attacked. Not daring to
run the risk of a battle under the walls of Irkutsk, they
immediately broke up the Angara camp.
Irkutsk was at last relieved.
With febe first Russian soldiers two of Michael's friends
entered the city. They were the inseparable Blount and
Jolivet. On gaining the right bank of the Angara by
means of the icy barrier, they had escaped, as had the
CONCLVSIOIT. 359
other fugitives, before the flames had reached their raft.
This had been noted by Alcide Jolivet in his book in this
way:
" Kan a narrow chance of being finished up like a lemon
in a bowl of punch. "
Their joy was great on finding Nadia and Michael safe
and sound; above all, when they learned that their brave
companion was not blind. Harry Blount inscribed this
observation :
" Red-hot iron is insufficient in some cases to destroy the
sensibility of the optic nerve."
Then the two correspondents, settled for a time in
Irkutsk, busied themselves in putting the notes and im-
pressions of their journey in order. Thence were sent to
London and Paris two interesting articles relative to the
Tartar invasion, and which — a rare thing — did not con-
tradict each other even on the least important points.
The remainder of the campaign was unfortunate to the
emir and his allies. This invasion, futile as all which
attack the Russian Colossus must be, was very fatal to them.
They soon found themselves cut off by the czar's troops,
who retook in succession all the conquered towns. Besides
this, the winter was terrible, and decimated by the cold,
only a small part of these hordes returned to the steppes of
Tartary.
The Irkutsk road by way of the Ural Mountains was now
open. The grand duke was anxious to return to Moscow,
but he delayed his journey to be present at a touching
ceremony which took place a few days after the entry of the
Russian troops.
Michael Strogoff sought Nadia and in her father's pres-
ence said to her:
" Nadia, my sister still, when you left Riga to come to
Irkutsk, did you leave it with any other regret than that
for your mother?"
360 MICHAEL 8TR0G0FF.
"No," replied Nadia, " none of any sort whatever."
"Then nothing of your heart remains there?"
" Nothing, brother."
" Then, Nadia," said Michael, "I think that God, in
allowing us to meet and to go through so many severe
trials together, must have meant us to be united forever."
"Ah!" said Nadia, falling into Michael's arms. Then
turning toward Wassila Fedor she said, blushing:
"My father."
" Nadia," said Captain Fedor, " it will be my joy to call
you both my children!"
The marriage ceremony took place in Irkutsk cathedral.
Though simple in its detail, it was unusually brilliant in
consequence of the presence of the whole civil and military
population, who wished to show their deep gratitude to the
two young people whose Odyssey had already become
legendary.
Jolivet and Blount very naturally assisted at this mar-
riage, of which they wished to give an account to their
readers.
"And doesn't it make you wish to imitate them?"
asked Alcide of his friend.
"Pooh!" said Blount. "Now if I had a cousin like
you
" My cousin isn't to be married!" answered Alcide,
laughing.
" So much the better," returned Blount, " for they speak
of difficulties arising between London and Pekin. Have
you no wish to go and see what is going on there?"
" By Jove, my dear Blount!" exclaimed Alcide Jolivet,
" I was just going to make the same proposal to yon."
And that was how the two inseparables set off for China.
A few days after the ceremony Michael and Nadia Stro-
goff, accompanied by Wassili Fedor, took the route to
Europe. The road so full of suffering when going was a
CONCLUSION. . 361
road of joy in returning. They traveled swiftly, in one of
those sleighs which glide like an express train across the
frozen steppes of Siberia.
However, when they reached the banks of the Dinka,
just before Birskoe, they stopped for a while.
Michael found the place where he had buried poor
Nicholas. A cross was erected there, and Nadia prayed a
last time on the grave of the humble and heroic friend
whom neither of them would ever forget.
At Omsk old Marfa awaited them in the little house of
the Strogoffs. She clasped passionately in her arms the
girl whom in her heart she had already a hundred times
called daughter. The brave old Siberian on that day had
the right to recognize her son and say she was proud of
him.
After a few days passed at Omsk Michael and Nadia
entered Europe, and Wassili Fedor settling down in St.
Petersburg, neither his son nor his daughter had any occa-
sion to leave him except to go and see their old mother.
The young courier was received by the czar, who
attached him specially to his own person and gave him the
Cross of St. George.
In the course of time Michael Strogoff reached a high
station in the empire. But it is not the history of his
success, but the history of his trials, which deserves to be
related.
TTIE END.
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