CHAPTER I A TARTAR CAMP
AT a day's march from Kolyvan, several versts beyond the town ofDiachinks, stretches a wide plain, planted here and there with greattrees, principally pines and cedars. This part of the steppe is usuallyoccupied during the warm season by Siberian shepherds, and theirnumerous flocks. But now it might have been searched in vain for one ofits nomad inhabitants. Not that the plain was deserted. It presented amost animated appearance.
There stood the Tartar tents; there Feofar-Khan, the terrible Emirof Bokhara, was encamped; and there on the following day, the 7thof August, were brought the prisoners taken at Kolyvan after theannihilation of the Russian force, which had vainly attempted to opposethe progress of the invaders. Of the two thousand men who had engagedwith the two columns of the enemy, the bases of which rested on Tomskand Omsk, only a few hundred remained. Thus events were going badly,and the imperial government appeared to have lost its power beyond thefrontiers of the Ural--for a time at least, for the Russians could notfail eventually to defeat the savage hordes of the invaders. But inthe meantime the invasion had reached the center of Siberia, and itwas spreading through the revolted country both to the eastern, andthe western provinces. If the troops of the Amoor and the province ofTakutsk did not arrive in time to occupy it, Irkutsk, the capital ofAsiatic Russia, being insufficiently garrisoned, would fall into thehands of the Tartars, and the Grand Duke, brother of the Emperor, wouldbe sacrificed to the vengeance of Ivan Ogareff.
What had become of Michael Strogoff? Had he broken down under the weightof so many trials? Did he consider himself conquered by the seriesof disasters which, since the adventure of Ichim, had increased inmagnitude? 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 wasyet alive; he still had the imperial letter safe; his disguise had beenundiscovered. He was included amongst the numerous prisoners whom theTartars were dragging with them like cattle; but by approaching Tomsk hewas at the same time drawing nearer to Irkutsk. Besides, he was still infront of Ivan Ogareff.
"I will get there!" he repeated to himself.
Since the affair of Kolyvan all the powers of his mind were concentratedon one object--to become free! How should he escape from the Emir'ssoldiers?
Feofar's camp presented a magnificent spectacle.
Numberless tents, of skin, felt, or silk, glistened in the rays of thesun. The lofty plumes which surmounted their conical tops waved amidstbanners, flags, and pennons of every color. The richest of these tentsbelonged to the Seides and Khodjas, who are the principal personages ofthe khanat. A special pavilion, ornamented with a horse's tail issuingfrom a sheaf of red and white sticks artistically interlaced, indicatedthe high rank of these Tartar chiefs. Then in the distance rose severalthousand of the Turcoman tents, called "karaoy," which had been carriedon 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.Amongst them, and as the principal types of Turkestan, would have beendirectly remarked the Tadjiks, from their regular features, white skin,tall forms, and black eyes and hair; they formed the bulk of the Tartararmy, and of them the khanats of Khokhand and Koundouge had furnisheda contingent nearly equal to that of Bokhara. With the Tadjiks weremingled specimens of different races who either reside in Turkestan orwhose native countries border on it. There were Usbecks, red-bearded,small in stature, similar to those who had pursued Michael. Here wereKirghiz, with flat faces like the Kalmucks, dressed in coats of mail:some carried the lance, bows, and arrows of Asiatic manufacture; somethe saber, a matchlock gun, and the "tschakane," a little short-handledax, the wounds from which invariably prove fatal. There were Mongols--ofmiddle height, with black hair plaited into pigtails, which hung downtheir back; 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, coats gayly braided,and silk caps edged with fur and three ribbons fluttering behind.Brown-skinned Afghans, too, might have been seen. Arabs, having theprimitive type of the beautiful Semitic races; and Turcomans, with eyeswhich looked as if they had lost the pupil,--all enrolled under theEmir'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 theywere certainly not the least esteemed of Feofar-Khan's army.
If to this list are added the Jews, who acted as servants, their robesconfined with a cord, and wearing on their heads instead of the turban,which is forbidden them, little caps of dark cloth; if with thesegroups are mingled some hundreds of "kalenders," a sort of religiousmendicants, clothed in rags, covered by a leopard skin, some idea may beformed of the enormous agglomerations of different tribes included underthe general denomination of the Tartar army.
Nothing could be more romantic than this picture, in delineating whichthe most skillful artist would have exhausted all the colors of hispalette.
Feofar's tent overlooked the others. Draped in large folds of abrilliant silk looped with golden cords and tassels, surmounted by tallplumes which waved in the wind like fans, it occupied the center of awide clearing, sheltered by a grove of magnificent birch and pine trees.Before this tent, on a japanned table inlaid with precious stones, wasplaced the sacred book of the Koran, its pages being of thin gold-leafdelicately engraved. Above floated the Tartar flag, quartered with theEmir's arms.
In a semicircle round the clearing stood the tents of the greatfunctionaries of Bokhara. There resided the chief of the stables, whohas the right to follow the Emir on horseback even into the court ofhis palace; the grand falconer; the "housch-begui," bearer of theroyal seal; the "toptschi-baschi," grand master of the artillery; the"khodja," chief of the council, who receives the prince's kiss, andmay 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 raisedamong the soldiers; and lastly, the chief of the astrologers, whosegreat business is to consult the stars every time the Khan thinks ofchanging his quarters.
When the prisoners were brought into the camp, the Emir was in his tent.He did not show himself. This was fortunate, no doubt. A sign, a wordfrom him might have been the signal for some bloody execution. Buthe intrenched himself in that isolation which constitutes in part themajesty 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 enclosure, where,ill-treated, poorly fed, and exposed to all the inclemencies of theweather, they would await Feofar's pleasure.
The most docile and patient of them all was undoubtedly MichaelStrogoff. He allowed himself to be led, for they were leading him wherehe wished to go, and under conditions of safety which free he could nothave found on the road from Kolyvan to Tomsk. To escape before reachingthat town was to risk again falling into the hands of the scouts, whowere scouring the steppe. The most eastern line occupied by the Tartarcolumns was not situated beyond the eighty-fifth meridian, which passesthrough Tomsk. This meridian once passed, Michael considered that heshould be beyond the hostile zones, that he could traverse Genisciwithout danger, and gain Krasnoiarsk before Feofar-Khan had invaded theprovince.
"Once at Tomsk," he repeated to himself, to repress some feelings ofimpatience which he could not entirely master, "in a few minutes Ishould be beyond the outposts; and twelve hours gained on Feofar, twelvehours on Ogareff, that surely would be enough to give me a start of themto Irkutsk."
The thing that Michael dreaded more than everything else was thepresence of Ivan Ogareff in the Tartar camp. Besides the danger of beingrecognized, he felt, by a sort of instinct, that this was the traitorwhom it was especially necessary to precede. He understood, too, thatthe union of Ogareff's troops with those of Feofar would comp
lete theinvading army, and that the junction once effected, the army would marchen masse on the capital of Eastern Siberia. All his apprehensions camefrom this quarter, and he dreaded every instant to hear some flourish oftrumpets, announcing the arrival of the lieutenant of the Emir.
To this was added the thought of his mother, of Nadia,--the one aprisoner at Omsk; the other dragged on board the Irtych boats, and nodoubt 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 notreply, his heart sank very low.
At the same time with Michael Strogoff and so many other prisoners HarryBlount and Alcide Jolivet had also been taken to the Tartar camp. Theirformer traveling companion, captured like them at the telegraph office,knew that they were penned up with him in the enclosure, guarded bynumerous sentinels, but he did not wish to accost them. It matteredlittle to him, at this time especially, what they might think of himsince the affair at Ichim. Besides, he desired to be alone, that hemight act alone, if necessary. He therefore held himself aloof from hisformer acquaintances.
From the moment that Harry Blount had fallen by his side, Jolivet hadnot ceased his attentions to him. During the journey from Kolyvan tothe camp--that is to say, for several hours--Blount, by leaning on hiscompanion'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 noeffect on the barbarians, who only replied by prods with a lance orsword. The correspondent of the Daily Telegraph was, therefore, obligedto submit to the common lot, resolving to protest later, and obtainsatisfaction for such treatment. But the journey was not the lessdisagreeable to him, for his wound caused him much pain, and withoutAlcide Jolivet's assistance he might never have reached the camp.
Jolivet, whose practical philosophy never abandoned him, had physicallyand morally strengthened his companion by every means in his power. Hisfirst care, when they found themselves definitely established in theenclosure, was to examine Blount's wound. Having managed carefully todraw off his coat, he found that the shoulder had been only grazed bythe shot.
"This is nothing," he said. "A mere scratch! After two or threedressings 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 something of doctors."
And on this affirmation Alcide, tearing his handkerchief, made lint ofone piece, bandages of the other, took some water from a well dug in themiddle of the enclosure, bathed the wound, and skillfully placed the wetrag on Harry Blount's shoulder.
"I treat you with water," he said. "This liquid is the most efficacioussedative known for the treatment of wounds, and is the most employednow. Doctors have taken six thousand years to discover that! Yes, sixthousand years in round numbers!"
"I thank you, M. Jolivet," answered Harry, stretching himself on a bedof dry leaves, which his companion had arranged for him in the shade ofa birch tree.
"Bah! it'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?"
"Well, the French--they are brutes, if you like! But what redeems themis that they are French. Say nothing more about that, or rather, saynothing 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 toindulge himself.
"M. Jolivet," he asked, "do you think that our last dispatches have beenable to pass the Russian frontier?"
"Why not?" answered Alcide. "By this time you may be sure that mybeloved cousin knows all about the affair at Kolyvan."
"How many copies does your cousin work off of her dispatches?" askedBlount, for the first time putting his 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 shetroubled the sleep of which you are in need."
"I don't wish to sleep," replied the Englishman. "What will your cousinthink of the affairs of Russia?"
"That they seem for the time in a bad way. But, bah! the Muscovitegovernment is powerful; it cannot be really uneasy at an invasion ofbarbarians."
"Too much ambition has lost the greatest empires," answered Blount, whowas not exempt from a certain English jealousy with regard to Russianpretensions in Central Asia.
"Oh, do not let us talk politics," cried Jolivet. "It is forbidden bythe faculty. Nothing can be worse for wounds in the shoulder--unless itwas 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 remaining a prisoner to theseTartars for an indefinite time."
"Nor I, either, by Jove!"
"We will escape on the first opportunity?"
"Yes, if there is no other way of regaining our liberty."
"Do you know of any other?" asked Blount, looking at his companion.
"Certainly. We are not belligerents; we are neutral, and we will claimour freedom."
"From that brute of a Feofar-Khan?"
"No; he would not understand," answered Jolivet; "but from hislieutenant, Ivan Ogareff."
"He is a villain."
"No doubt; but the villain is a Russian. He knows that it does not doto 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 quitesuit my taste."
"But that gentleman is not in the camp, or at least I have not seen himhere," 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 certainly Feofar's army is onlywaiting for him to advance on Irkutsk."
"And once free, what shall we do?"
"Once free, we will continue our campaign, and follow the Tartars, untilthe time comes when we can make our way into the Russian camp. We mustnot 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 DailyTelegraph, whilst I--I have as yet suffered nothing in my cousin'sservice. Well, well! Good," murmured Alcide Jolivet; "there he isasleep. A few hours' sleep and a few cold water compresses are all thatare required to set an Englishman on his legs again. These fellows aremade of cast iron."
And whilst Harry Blount rested, Alcide watched near him, after havingdrawn out his note book, which he loaded with notes, determined besidesto share them with his companion, for the greater satisfaction of thereaders of the Daily Telegraph. Events had united them one with theother. They were no longer jealous of each other. So, then, the thingthat Michael Strogoff dreaded above everything was the most livelydesire of the two correspondents. Ivan Ogareff's arrival would evidentlybe of use to them. Blount and Jolivet's interest was, therefore,contrary to that of Michael. The latter well understood the situation,and it was one reason, added to many others, which prevented him fromapproaching his former traveling companions. He therefore managed so asnot to be seen by them.
Four days passed thus without the state of things being in anywisealtered. The prisoners heard no talk of the breaking up of the Tartarcamp. They were strictly guarded. It would have been impossible for themto pass the cordon of foot and horse soldiers, which watched them nightand 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 theintestines of goats grilled on the coals, or a few bits of that cheesecalled "kroute," made of sour ewe's milk, and which, soaked in mare'smilk, forms the Kirghiz dish, commonly called "koumyss." And this wasall. It may be added that the weather had become detestable. There wereconsiderable atmospheric commotions, bringing squalls mingled with rain.The unfortunate prisoners, destitute of shelter, had to bear all theinclemencies of the weather, nor was there the slightest al
leviation totheir misery. Several wounded women and children died, and the prisonerswere themselves compelled to dig graves for the bodies of those whomtheir jailers would not even take the trouble to bury.
During this trying period Alcide Jolivet and Michael Strogoff workedhard, each in the portions of the enclosure in which they foundthemselves. Healthy and vigorous, they suffered less than so manyothers, and could better endure the hardships to which they wereexposed. By their advice, and the assistance they rendered, they wereof the greatest possible use to their suffering and despairingfellow-captives.
Was this state of things to last? Would Feofar-Khan, satisfied with hisfirst success, wait some time before marching on Irkutsk? Such, it wasto be feared, would be the case. But it was not so. The event so muchwished for by Jolivet and Blount, so much dreaded by Michael, occurredon the morning of the 12th of August.
On that day the trumpets sounded, the drums beat, the cannon roared.A huge cloud of dust swept along the road from Kolyvan. Ivan Ogareff,followed by several thousand men, made his entry into the Tartar camp.