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Show THE SIBERIAN POST-ROAD. Colonel Thomas W. Knox's description of an arduous journey-from Irkutsk to St. Petersburg by sleigh-the expense of a journey of this kind. Lieutenant ?? and his comrades are about to leave Irkutsk for St. Petersburg, on their way to the United States, and two officers of our navy have just been ordered to Siberia to assist in the search for Captain DeLong and the missing men. It has, therefore, been suggested to me that a brief description of the Siberian post-road over which these parties would travel would be specially interesting at this time. In November, 1866 I left Irkutsk for St. Petersburg; the terminus of the railway was then at Nijai Novgorod, 3,100 miles from the former city. Winter is the best time for travel in Siberia, as the roads are smoother than at other seasons of the year, and one is not annoyed by dust and mosquitoes. If you travel by the post vehicles belonging to the station masters, you must change at every station, and a transfer of yourself and baggage four or five times a day, with the thermometer below zero, is the reverse of pleasant. Consequently, most persons prefer to buy a carriage or a sleigh at starting, and sell it for what it will bring at the end of the route. I became the owner of a ??, a half-open sleigh, which somewhat resembles a New England chaise greatly elongated. There was abundant room for two of us, a ?? could lay at full length on our furs and baggage, or sit half up right, with pillows enough to wedge us closely into our places. At night or in storms we could lower a ?? as the top and fasten it to a thick apron from below, so that we were fairly protected from severe weather. Baggage is in flat valises of soft leather and spread over the bottom of the sleigh; the cavities and chinks are filled with straw, a layer of furs or sheepskin covers the whole, and on this you sit or lie at your pleasure. It is judicious to lash it with ropes to prevent its tumbling out on top of you in case of an upset. The post stations are from ten to twenty miles apart, and from Irkutsk to Nijai Novgorod I changed horses and drivers 200 times and was drawn by not far from a thousand horses altogether. On arriving at a station you present your paderoynia, or road pass, to the station-master and demand horses, if your pass is of a high order you will get them at once, but if there is no reason why he should expedite you he may keep you waiting several hours, or until you bribe him into supplying your wants. The road pass is only obtainable from the authorities, and as horses can not be supplied without it, there is no chance of an "irregular" person traveling about the country. The pass states your name and residence, the number of horses you are entitled to demand and pay for, and also states very explicitly your destination. The ordinary team is three horses, and each horse is to be paid for at the rate of a kopeck and a half per ??-about a cent and a half per mile. The driver expects a small fee at the end of his course, so that the expense of being drawn over a Siberian road is about five cents a mile for two persons. If the roads are good you are carried along at a fine speed, especially if you hint that a liberal reward will be forthcoming. It was not unusual to make ten or twelve miles an hour, and not infrequently thirteen miles would be covered in that time. The performance of a Russian driver is sometimes rather trying to a nervous person. He descends hills at a breakneck pace, and is utterly regardless of shaking you up. Late in winter the roads are full of hollows, or "hog wallows," especially on the hillsides, and when a team is driven over them at a gallop the sleigh jambs in a manner a great deal more than exhilarating. As long as the vehicle preserves its integrity the driver pays it no attention. This sort of thing brings on what the Russians call the "road fever," the pulse is high, and every bound of the sleigh forces the blood through the veins at a fearful pressure. Your head seems ready to burst, and the feeling at each jar of the vehicle is very much as though somebody was trying to drive a railway spike into skull. The feeling generally subsides in two or three days, but sometimes it is so severe that the traveler becomes delirious, and must take several hours of rest at each stage. I followed the Russian plan in preparing for the journey. I had fur socks over my ordinary ones, fur stockings outside the socks, and fut boots enclosing all. Over my ordinary clothing I wore a sheep skin coat with the wool inside and fastening tight around the neck. Outside of this was a deerskin coat that touched the ground when I stood erect, and was large enough inside for a man and a boy, its collar was a foot wide, and the sleeves, six inches longer than the arms inside, were very inconvenient when I tried to pick up anything. Fur clothing in such amount is a personal encumbrance, but without it the traveler would suffer from the severe cold. The lowest temperature I experienced on the road was 40 [degree sign] below zero. A bottle of champagne became perfectly solid the first day of the sleigh ride, and I discovered a tendency to crystallization in a bottle of poor brandy that belonged to my companion. Though the frost can not penetrate a traveler's furs, it constantly assails his face and congeals the moisture of his breath. Beard and furs frequently freeze together and render sudden movements inconvenient. A mustache becomes a double edged icicle in a short time, and a lady will tell you that her veil is soon converted into a good counterfeit of a wire screen. It was a season of feasting when I made my journey, and the stations could not be relied on for any provisions except bread and eggs, unless we included hot water for making tea. Russians drink vast quantities of tea while traveling, and many who are addicted to stimulating drinks while at home abstain from them altogether on the road and drink nothing but tea. We carried most of our provisions in a frozen state, and thawed them out at the stations as we wanted them. Soup was in cakes like small bricks, and roast beef resembled red granite; we had a bag of ??, a Russian preparation of little meat balls covered with an envelope of dough, and this bag was our great reliance. The contents were like walnuts, from the effects of the frost; a double handful dropped into a gallon of water and boiled for five minutes made a substantial soup or stew, and we found this article of sustenance more convenient than any other. Along the road there was little change of scenery. The country is undulating but not broken, and in some places there are plains that resemble our Western prairies. The landscape, or rather snowscape, is monotonous and wearisome, except where it is crossed by rivers and the few ranges of hills along the route. The villages containing the stations were from ten to twenty miles apart, and generally built in a single street. Outside of nearly every village was a block house, where exiles are lodged on their way to the places of their banishment; the movements of these involuntary emigrants are so bound that only a given number are lodged in any one house at the same time, not as much in consideration of the ?? of the ?? as through fear of attempt at revolt and escape. While the horses were being changed at the stations we had the option of entering the house or staying outside, we generally did the latter, except at meal times, as the change from several degrees below zero to 60 or 70 above is not altogether agreeable. The rooms of Russian homes are warmed by brick stoves, and among the peasants the top of the stove is the favorite sleeping place. At night we used to stir the drivers out from where they were being slowly baked. Their toilets were quickly performed as it only included donning a sheepskin coat and buckling a belt around the waist, and then they were ready for a drive of two or three hours through an arctic temperature. The most perilous part of the journey is across the ?? Steppe, in Western Siberia, a plain a thousand miles wide, and then ?? by severe storms. The snow is whirled in blinding masses, the wind, if blowing from the north, is bitter cold and not infrequently men and horses perish. Travel ceases during these storms, and sometimes those who venture to brave them never reach their destination. Wolves abound here and many stories are told of their ferocity, but they are less dangerous in Western Russia where the population is more dense and game less abundant, than in Siberia; even there they never attack men except in the severest winters, when hunger has made them desperate. A Siberian journey generally begins in the evening, and ?? day and night till its end. The Government couriers will go from Irkutsk to ?? in fourteen or fifteen days, under favorable circumstances, but a more dignified and less fatiguing pace will cover the distance in twenty-two or twenty-five days. The larger the party the slower will be its progress, and it is not likely that Lieutenant ?? and his comrades will arrive at St. Petersburg in less than a month from their departure from Irkutsk. They will be certain to receive all possible attention from the Russians along the route, and it is by no means improbable that they may be detained a day or two in each of a half dozen towns, in order that the inhabitants can have an opportunity of showing their sympathy for the survivors of the lost ??, and their good will for all Americans.-Cor. N. Y. Mail and Express. |