The Mammoth Book of Travel in Dangerous Places

by John Keay

  In the evening after having eaten in company with the Commander the ptarmigans which Mr. Plenisner shot during the day, I told Betge, the assistant surgeon, that he might live with us if he liked, for which he gave thanks; and thus our company now consisted of four. We therefore walked over to the place of our new quarters, sat by the camp fire, and discussed, over a cup of tea, how we would put our plan into execution. I built near by a small hut which I covered with my two overcoats and an old blanket; the openings on the sides were stopped up with dead foxes which we had killed during the day and were lying about in heaps, and then we retired to rest, but Mr. Betge returned to the Commander.

  Towards midnight a strong wind arose, which was accompanied by much snow, tore off our roof, and drove the three of us from our quarters. We ran up and down the beach in the dark gathering driftwood, carried it to a pit dug like a grave for two persons, and decided to pass the night there. We laid the wood crosswise over it and covered the top with our clothes, overcoats, and blankets, made a fire to warm ourselves, went to sleep again, and thus, God be thanked, passed a very good night.

  On the following day (November 11) I went down to the sea and fetched a seal, the fat of which I cooked with peas and ate in company with my three comrades, who in the meantime had made two shovels and begun to enlarge our pit. – In the afternoon the Captain Commander was brought to us on a stretcher and had a tent, made of a sail, put upon the spot that we had originally chosen for our dwelling place. We entertained him, as well as the other officers who had come to our pit, with tea. – Towards evening both officers returned to the ship. Master Khitrov even proposed to Lieutenant Waxel that they should winter on board the vessel in the open sea, because, according to his idea, more warmth and comfort could be had there than on land, where, for lack of wood, one would have to endure the winter in a tent. This proposition was now approved as very sensible, yet three days later the Master, on his own accord, came ashore and could not be brought back on board the vessel by any orders when later he was to haul it up on the beach. – However, we continued to enlarge our underground home by digging and collected everywhere on the beach wood for a roof and inside coating. – This evening we fixed up a light roof and in the person of assistant constable Roselius obtained the fifth member of our party. In the same manner a few others, who still had strength left, began also to dig a four-cornered pit in the frozen sand and covered it over the next day with double sails in order to shelter the sick.

  On November 12 we worked with the greatest industry on our habitation, observed also that others, following our example, dug for themselves in the same manner a third habitation which received its name from its founder, the boatswain Alexei Ivanov. – During the day many of the sick were brought from the vessel, some of whom expired as soon as they came into the air, as was the case with the cannoneer; others in the boat on the way over, as the soldier Savin Stepanov; some right on the beach, as the sailor Sylvester. – Everywhere on the shore there was nothing but pitiful and terrifying sights. The dead, before they could be interred, were mutilated by the foxes, who even dared to attack the living and helpless sick, who lay about on the beach without cover, and sniffed at them like dogs. Some of the sick cried because they were cold, others because hungry and thirsty, since the mouths of many were so miserably affected by the scurvy that they could not eat anything because of the great pain, as the gums were swollen like a sponge, brown black, grown over the teeth and covering them.

  The blue foxes (Lagopus), which by now had gathered about us in countless numbers, became, contrary to habit and nature, at the sight of man more and more tame, mischievous, and to such a degree malicious that they pulled all the baggage about, chewed up the leather soles, scattered the provisions, stole and carried off from one his boots, from another his socks, trousers, gloves, coats, etc., all of which were lying under the open sky and could not be guarded because of the lack of well persons. Even objects made of iron, and other kinds which they could not eat, were nevertheless sniffed at and stolen. It even seemed as if these miserable animals were to plague and chastise us more and more in the future, as actually happened, perhaps in order that we, like the Philistines, might also be punished by the foxes for our eagerness for the precious Kamchatkan fox skins. It even seemed that the more of them we killed and tortured for revenge most cruelly before the eyes of the others, letting them run away half-skinned, without eyes, ears, tails, half roasted, etc., the more malevolent and audacious became the others, so that they also broke into our habitations and dragged out of them whatever they could get hold of, though occasionally, in spite of our misery, they moved us to laughter by their cunning and funny monkey tricks.

  November 14. This afternoon, with Mr. Plenisner and Mr. Betge, I went hunting for the first time, or, as we afterwards used to say in the Siberian way, went on the promysl. We clubbed four sea otters, half of which we threw into a creek, which therefrom afterwards retained the name Bobrovaya Ryechka [Sea Otter Creek] and the place where we killed them Bobrovoe Pole [Sea Otter Field], but the best meat, together with the skins and the entrails, we carried home, where we did not arrive until night. From the liver, kidneys, heart, and the meat of these animals we made several palatable dishes and ate them gratefully and with the wish that Providence would not deprive us of this food in the future or put us in the necessity of eating the stinking, disgusting, and hated foxes, which nevertheless, out of prudence, we did not want to exterminate but only to frighten. The precious skins of the sea otters we regarded already as a burden which had lost its value to us, and, as we had no leisure to dry and prepare them, they were thrown about from one day to another until finally they spoiled, together with many others, and were chewed to pieces by the foxes. On the other hand, we now began to regard many things as treasures to which formerly we had paid little or no attention, such as axes, knives, awls, needles, thread, shoe twine, shoes, shirts, socks, sticks, strings, and similar things which in former days many of us would not have stooped to pick up. We all realized that rank, learning, and other distinctions would be of no advantage here in the future or suffice as a means of sustenance; therefore, before being driven to it by shame and necessity, we ourselves decided to work with what strength we had still left, so as not to be laughed at afterward or wait until we were ordered. Thus we five introduced among ourselves a community of goods with regard to the victuals we still had left and arranged our housekeeping in such a manner that at the end there might be no want. The others of our party, three cossacks, and the two servants of the Captain Commander, whom we later took over, we managed, though not exactly as before, yet in such a way that they had to obey when we decided anything jointly, since they received all household goods from us. Nevertheless, we began in the meantime to address everybody somewhat more politely by their patronymics and given name, so as to win them over and be able to rely more on their fidelity in case of misfortune later on; and we soon learned that Peter Maximovich was more ready to serve than Petrusha was formerly. This evening we talked over how we would arrange our household affairs in the future, prepare beforehand against all unexpected mishaps, and, as far as possible, try to keep alive the hope of returning to Asia; we also discussed the unfortunate circumstances in which we had been placed in such a short time that, setting aside the decencies of life to which everyone was entitled, we now were obliged to work in this unaccustomed way simply to sustain a miserable existence. Nevertheless, we encouraged one another not to lose heart but with the greatest possible cheerfulness and earnestness to work for our own benefit as well as for the welfare of the others and by our exertions to support loyally their strength and undertakings.

  Today I brought the Captain Commander a young, still suckling sea otter and counselled him in every way and manner to let it be prepared for himself in default of other fresh food, but he showed a very great disgust at it and wondered at my taste, which adapted itself to circumstances. He much preferred to regale himself with ptarmigans as long as possible, of which h
e received from our company more than he could eat.

  On November 13 the building of dwellings was continued. We divided ourselves into three parties; the first went on the vessel to work in order to bring the sick and the provisions ashore; the others dragged home great logs a distance of four versts from Lyesnaya Ryechka (Wood Creek), thus named by us; I, however, and a sick cannoneer remained at home, I attending to the kitchen and the other making a sled for hauling wood and other supplies. While thus taking upon myself the office of cook I also assumed a twofold minor function, namely, to visit the Captain Commander off and on and to assist him in various ways, as he could now expect but little service from his two attendants. Furthermore, as we were the first to set up housekeeping, it also became my duty to succour some of the weak and sick and to bring them warm soups, continuing this until they had recovered somewhat and were able to take care of themselves.

  This day the “Barracks” were completed, and during the afternoon many of the sick were carried in but on account of the narrowness of the space were lying everywhere about on the ground covered with rags and clothing. No one was able to care for another, and nothing was heard but wailing and lamenting, the men times out of number calling down God’s judgment for revenge on the authors of their misfortune. And, truly, the sight was so pitiful that even the bravest might lose courage thereat.

  On November 15, at last, all of the sick had been brought ashore. We took one of them, by name Boris Sänd, to be cared for in our dwelling, whom God withal helped back to health within three months. Master Khitrov also implored us for God’s sake to take him into our company and give him a corner, because he could not possibly longer remain among the crew, who day and night let him hear reproaches and threats for past doings, but as our dwelling was already filled up and as nobody was allowed to undertake anything without the assent of the others, all of us objected, as all were equally insulted by him, and refused him absolutely, especially because he was mostly sick from laziness and was the chief author of our misfortune.

  During the days that followed our misery and work grew apace. Finally Waxel himself was also brought ashore. He was so badly ravaged by the scurvy that we abandoned all hope for his life, but nevertheless we did not fail to come to his help with both food and medicine, without a thought of former treatment. We were all the more anxious for his recovery, as it was to be feared that, after his decease, when the supreme command would fall to Khitrov, the universal hatred would destroy all discipline and delay, or even prevent, the enterprises necessary for our deliverance. We also induced our men to build a separate hut for him and a few other patients, but until it was erected he had to stand it in the Barracks.

  In these days we also received the news, which depressed everybody still more, that our men sent out to scout had not found any indication in the west of a connection of this land with Kamchatka or even the slightest trace of human inhabitants. Besides, we were in daily fear that our vessel, in view of the constant storms, might be driven out to sea and that with it we should lose at one stroke all our provisions and our hope of deliverance. Because of the high waves we were often unable for several days to reach the vessel in the boat for the purpose of landing as many of the supplies as possible. In addition ten or twelve men were likewise taken sick who until now had worked steadily and beyond their strength and who until the end of the month often stood in the cold sea water to their armpits. Altogether, want, nakedness, cold, dampness, exhaustion, illness, impatience, and despair were the daily guests.

  By a stroke of good luck the vessel, towards the end of November, was finally thrown up on the beach in a storm in a better way than perhaps might ever have been done by human effort. As thereby the hope of preserving the food on hand, scant as it was, as well as materials had been greatly raised, while at the same time the task of wading through the water to the vessel was rendered unnecessary, we began after a few days to give up all work for the present and to recover. Only the necessary household tasks were continued. Three men were again sent out to go into the country eastward and gather information. For all hope had not yet been abandoned that this might be Kamchatka and, since an error in the latitude might have been made, perhaps the region about Olyutora, the large number of foxes there also apparently lending probability to this view. Others believed this to be Cape Kronotski, and, although the error was easy to see, they loved to lull themselves into pleasant dreams with such hopes.

  A number of persons died ashore at the very beginning. Among them we were particularly grieved over the old and experienced mate, Andreas Hesselberg, who had served at sea for more than fifty years and at the age of seventy was discharging his duties always in such a way that he carried to his grave the reputation of a preëminently useful man, whose disregarded advice might perhaps have saved us earlier. Besides him there died two grenadiers, one cannoneer, the master’s servant, one sailor, and finally, on December 8, Captain Commander Bering passed away, from whom this island was afterwards named. Two days after him his former adjutant, the master’s mate Khotyaintsov, died, and on January 8 the ensign Lagunov, the thirtieth in the sequence and the last one of our number [to die].

  THE WALK TO

  MOSCOW

  John Dundas Cochrane

  (1793–1825)

  A naval officer made redundant by the end of the Napoleonic wars, Cochrane offered his services to African exploration. They were declined. He then hit on the idea of making the first solo journey round the world on foot. Heading east, he left Dieppe in 1820 and after some scarcely credible Siberian excursions, reached the Pacific opposite Alaska. There the enterprise foundered when he fell for, and married, a doe-eyed Kamchatkan teenager. In this breathless account of the stages between St. Petersburg and Moscow, the greatest ever “pedestrian traveller” betrays both his extraordinary stamina and his emotional vulnerability.

  I was now furnished with all the documents which I had deemed necessary. They consisted of the following: The customary passport, with the substitution of the minister’s for the governor-general’s signature; a secret letter to the governor-general of Siberia; and two official documents which I shall give at length.

  The first of these (addressed – “To all civil governors,” and signed by the minister of the interior) states, that “The bearer hereof, Captain John Cochrane, of the British royal navy, purposing to travel through Russia on foot, is now on his departure for Kamtchatka, with the intention of penetrating from thence to America.

  “Having, by the command of his Imperial Majesty, provided this traveller with open instructions to the police of all the towns and provinces lying in his track from St. Petersburg to Kamchatka, this is also to desire all the chiefs of the different governments through which he may travel, to aid Captain Cochrane, as far as possible, to proceed on his journey without interruption, as well as to afford him lawful defence and protection, in case it should be desired.”

  The other was an “open order of his Imperial Majesty Alexander the First, Autocrat of all the Russias,” &c. &c. signed by the same minister and stating, that “The bearer hereof, Captain John Cochrane, of his Britannic Majesty’s Royal navy, having undertaken to travel on foot through the Russian empire, is now on his way to Kamtchatka, intending from thence to pass over to America. The police of the towns and provinces lying in his track from St. Petersburg to Kamtchatka, are, in consequence hereof, not only forbidden to obstruct Captain Cochrane in his journey, but are moreover commanded, in case of necessity, to afford him every possible assistance.”

  I quitted the hospitable habitation of Sir Robert Kerr Porter, on the 24th of May; and, having had a lift in the carriage with four horses of Sir Robert, I, with my knapsack on my back, set out, and trotted over a partially cultivated country. A pretty avenue of birch trees lined the road, as if to accompany me as far as possible on my departure from the precincts of civilized man. Nature here got the better of a tolerably stout heart; and, as I turned round to catch a last glimpse of the capital I had left, and of
the friends to whom I had bade, perhaps, a last adieu, I could not suppress my grief, and, had not my honour been committed, should certainly have returned. A sigh escaped me as I ejaculated a last farewell, till, startling at the expression of my weakness, I resumed my journey with slow and melancholy steps.

  It was ten o’clock, (for I had now a watch), and I had reached six miles. The night was beautifully clear, though rather cold from the effects of a northern breeze; while the moon was near her full. I looked at the beautiful luminary and actually asked myself whether I were, as had been asserted, under the baneful influence of that planet. Smiling that I received no reply, I then considered my projects and intentions, and the conduct I ought to follow; and, sitting down at a fountain on the Poulkousky hill, I read to myself a few lessons, which the time and the occasion seemed to inspire. “Go,” said I, “and wander with the illiterate and almost brutal savage! – go and be the companion of the ferocious beast! – go and contemplate the human being in every element and climate, whether civilized or savage – of whatever tribe, nation, or religion. Make due allowance for the rusticity of their manners; nor be tempted to cope with them in those taunts, insults, and rudeness, to which the nature of thy enterprise will subject thee. Contemn those incidental circumstances which but too often surprise mankind from their good intentions, and deprive the world of much useful and interesting information. Avoid all political and military topics, and remember, that, “The proper study of mankind is man.” Should robbers attack thee, do not, by a foolish resistance, endanger thy life. Man may become hardened by crimes, and persist in the practice of them, till, meeting with resistance, he will be urged to murder; but man is still a humane being, even while seeking his subsistence by rapine and plunder; and seldom, from mere wantonness, will he spill the blood of his fellow-creature. It is only by patience, perseverance, and humility, by reducing thyself to the lowest level of mankind, that thou canst expect to pass through the ordeal with either safety or satisfaction.” Something like these were my self-dictated precepts, and I pledged their performance in a draught from the cool and limpid fountain.