CHAPTER X BAIKAL AND ANGARA
LAKE BAIKAL is situated seventeen hundred feet above the level of thesea. Its length is about six hundred miles, its breadth seventy. Itsdepth is not known. Madame de Bourboulon states that, according to theboatmen, it likes to be spoken of as "Madam Sea." If it is called "SirLake," it immediately lashes itself into fury. However, it is reportedand believed by the Siberians that a Russian is never drowned in it.
This immense basin of fresh water, fed by more than three hundredrivers, is surrounded by magnificent volcanic mountains. It has no otheroutlet than the Angara, which after passing Irkutsk throws itself intothe Yenisei, a little above the town of Yeniseisk. As to the mountainswhich encase it, they form a branch of the Toungouzes, and are derivedfrom the vast system of the Altai.
In this territory, subject to peculiar climatical conditions, theautumn appears to be absorbed in the precocious winter. It was now thebeginning of October. The sun set at five o'clock in the evening, andduring the long nights the temperature fell to zero. The first snows,which would last till summer, already whitened the summits of theneighboring hills. During the Siberian winter this inland sea is frozenover to a thickness of several feet, and is crossed by the sleighs ofcaravans.
Either because there are people who are so wanting in politeness as tocall it "Sir Lake," or for some more meteorological reason, Lake Baikalis subject to violent tempests. Its waves, short like those of allinland seas, are much feared by the rafts, prahms, and steamboats, whichfurrow 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 hereyes. But what could these two expect, in this wild region, if it wasnot to die of exhaustion and famine? And yet, what remained of the longjourney of four thousand miles for the Czar's courier to reach his end?Nothing but forty miles on the shore of the lake up to the mouth of theAngara, and sixty miles from the mouth of the Angara to Irkutsk; in all,a hundred miles, or three days' journey for a strong man, even on foot.
Could Michael Strogoff still be that man?
Heaven, no doubt, did not wish to put him to this trial. The fatalitywhich 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 to bea desert, which it usually is, was not so now. About fifty people werecollected at the angle formed by the end of the lake.
Nadia immediately caught sight of this group, when Michael, carrying herin his arms, issued from the mountain pass. The girl feared for a momentthat it was a Tartar detachment, sent to beat the shores of the Baikal,in which case flight would have been impossible to them both. But Nadiawas soon reassured.
"Russians!" she exclaimed. And with this last effort, her eyes closedand her head fell on Michael's breast.
But they had been seen, and some of these Russians, running to them, ledthe 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 ofdifferent conditions, whom the same interest had united at Lake Baikal.Driven back by the Tartar scouts, they hoped to obtain a refuge atIrkutsk, but not being able to get there by land, the invaders havingoccupied both banks of the Angara, they hoped to reach it by descendingthe river which flows through the town.
Their plan made Michael's heart leap; a last chance was before him,but he had strength to conceal this, wishing to keep his incognito morestrictly than ever.
The fugitives' plan was very simple. A current in the lake runs alongby the upper bank to the mouth of the Angara; this current they hopedto utilize, and with its assistance to reach the outlet of Lake Baikal.From this point to Irkutsk, the rapid waters of the river would bearthem along at a rate of eight miles an hour. In a day and a half theymight 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 aredrifted down Siberian rivers, was constructed. A forest of firs, growingon the bank, had supplied the necessary materials; the trunks, fastenedtogether with osiers, made a platform on which a hundred people couldhave easily found room.
On board this raft Michael and Nadia were taken. The girl had returnedto herself; some food was given to her as well as to her companion.Then, lying on a bed of leaves, she soon fell into a deep sleep.
To those who questioned him, Michael Strogoff said nothing of whathad taken place at Tomsk. He gave himself out as an inhabitant ofKrasnoiarsk, who had not been able to get to Irkutsk before the Emir'stroops arrived on the left bank of the Dinka, and he added that, veryprobably, the bulk of the Tartar forces had taken up a position beforethe Siberian capital.
There was not a moment to be lost; besides, the cold was becoming moreand more severe. During the night the temperature fell below zero; icewas already forming on the surface of the Baikal. Although the raftmanaged to pass easily over the lake, it might not be so easy betweenthe banks of the Angara, should pieces of ice be found to block up itscourse.
At eight in the evening the moorings were cast off, and the raft driftedin the current along the shore. It was steered by means of long poles,under the management of several muscular moujiks. An old Baikal boatmantook command of the raft. He was a man of sixty-five, browned by thesun, and lake breezes. A thick white beard flowed over his chest; afur cap covered his head; his aspect was grave and austere. His largegreat-coat, fastened in at the waist, reached down to his heels. Thistaciturn old fellow was seated in the stern, and issued his commands bygestures. Besides, the chief work consisted in keeping the raft in thecurrent, which ran along the shore, without drifting out into the open.
It has been already said that Russians of all conditions had found aplace on the raft. Indeed, to the poor moujiks, the women, old men, andchildren, were joined two or three pilgrims, surprised on their journeyby the invasion; a few monks, and a priest. The pilgrims carried astaff, a gourd hung at the belt, and they chanted psalms in a plaintivevoice: one came from the Ukraine, another from the Yellow sea, anda third from the Finland provinces. This last, who was an aged man,carried at his waist a little padlocked collecting-box, as if it hadbeen hung at a church door. Of all that he collected during his long andfatiguing pilgrimage, nothing was for himself; he did not even possessthe key of the box, which would only be opened on his return.
The monks came from the North of the Empire. Three months before theyhad left the town of Archangel. They had visited the sacred islands nearthe coast of Carelia, the convent of Solovetsk, the convent of Troitsa,those of Saint Antony and Saint Theodosia, at Kiev, that of Kazan, aswell as the church of the Old Believers, and they were now on their wayto Irkutsk, wearing the robe, the cowl, and the clothes of serge.
As to the papa, or priest, he was a plain village pastor, one of the sixhundred thousand popular pastors which the Russian Empire contains. Hewas clothed as miserably as the moujiks, not being above them in socialposition; in fact, laboring like a peasant on his plot of ground;baptis-ing, marrying, burying. He had been able to protect his wife andchildren from the brutality of the Tartars by sending them away into theNorthern provinces. He himself had stayed in his parish up to the lastmoment; 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 atregular intervals, raising their voices in the silent night, and at theend of each sentence of their prayer, the "Slava Bogu," Glory to God!issued from their lips.
No incident took place during the night. Nadia remained in a sort ofstupor, and Michael watched beside her; sleep only overtook him at longintervals, and even then his brain did not rest. At break of day, theraft, delayed by a strong breeze, which counteracted the course of thecurrent, was still forty versts from the mouth of the Angara. It seemedprobable that the fugitives could not reach it before three or fouro'clock in the evening. This did not trouble them; on the contrary, forthey would then descend the river
during the night, and the darknesswould also favor their entrance into Irkutsk.
The only anxiety exhibited at times by the old boatman was concerningthe formation of ice on the surface of the water. The night had beenexcessively cold; pieces of ice could be seen drifting towards the West.Nothing was to be dreaded from these, since they could not drift intothe Angara, having already passed the mouth; but pieces from the Easternend of the lake might be drawn by the current between the banks of theriver; this would cause difficulty, possibly delay, and perhaps even aninsurmountable obstacle which would stop the raft.
Michael therefore took immense interest in ascertaining what was thestate of the lake, and whether any large number of ice blocks appeared.Nadia being now awake, he questioned her often, and she gave him anaccount of all that was going on.
Whilst the blocks were thus drifting, curious phenomena were takingplace on the surface of the Baikal. Magnificent jets, from springs ofboiling water, shot up from some of those artesian wells which Naturehas bored in the very bed of the lake. These jets rose to a great heightand spread out in vapor, which was illuminated by the solar rays, andalmost immediately condensed by the cold. This curious sight would haveassuredly amazed a tourist traveling in peaceful times on this Siberiansea.
At four in the evening, the mouth of the Angara was signaled by the oldboatman, between the high granite rocks of the shore. On the right bankcould be seen the little port of Livenitchnaia, its church, and its fewhouses built on the bank. But the serious thing was that the ice blocksfrom the East were already drifting between the banks of the Angara, andconsequently were descending towards Irkutsk. However, their number wasnot yet great enough to obstruct the course of the raft, nor the coldgreat enough to increase their number.
The raft arrived at the little port and there stopped. The old boatmanwished to put into harbor for an hour, in order to make some repairs.The trunks threatened to separate, and it was important to fasten themmore securely together to resist the rapid current of the Angara.
The old boatman did not expect to receive any fresh fugitives atLivenitchnaia, and yet, the moment the raft touched, two passengers,issuing from a deserted house, ran as fast as they could towards thebeach.
Nadia seated on the raft, was abstractedly gazing at the shore. A crywas about to escape her. She seized Michael's hand, who at that momentraised his head.
"What is the matter, Nadia?" he asked.
"Our two traveling companions, Michael."
"The Frenchman and the Englishman whom we met in the defiles of theUral?"
"Yes."
Michael started, for the strict incognito which he wished to keep ran arisk of being betrayed. Indeed, it was no longer as Nicholas Korpanoffthat Jolivet and Blount would now see him, but as the true MichaelStrogoff, Courier of the Czar. The two correspondents had already methim twice since their separation at the Ichim post-house--the first timeat the Zabediero camp, when he laid open Ivan Ogareff's face with theknout; the second time at Tomsk, when he was condemned by the Emir. Theytherefore knew who he was and what depended on him.
Michael Strogoff rapidly made up his mind. "Nadia," said he, "when theystep on board, ask them to come to me!"
It was, in fact, Blount and Jolivet, whom the course of events hadbrought to the port of Livenitchnaia, as it had brought MichaelStrogoff. As we know, after having been present at the entry of theTartars into Tomsk, they had departed before the savage execution whichterminated the fete. They had therefore never suspected that theirformer traveling companion had not been put to death, but blinded byorder of the Emir.
Having procured horses they had left Tomsk the same evening, withthe fixed determination of henceforward dating their letters fromthe Russian camp of Eastern Siberia. They proceeded by forced marchestowards Irkutsk. They hoped to distance Feofar-Khan, and would certainlyhave done so, had it not been for the unexpected apparition of the thirdcolumn, come from the South, up the valley of the Yenisei. They had beencut off, as had been Michael, before being able even to reach the Dinka,and had been obliged to go back to Lake Baikal.
They had been in the place for three days in much perplexity, whenthe raft arrived. The fugitives' plan was explained to them. There wascertainly a chance that they might be able to pass under cover of thenight, and penetrate into Irkutsk. They resolved to make the attempt.
Alcide directly communicated with the old boatman, and asked a passagefor himself and his companion, offering to pay anything he demanded,whatever it might be.
"No one pays here," replied the old man gravely; "every one risks hislife, that is all!"
The two correspondents came on board, and Nadia saw them take theirplaces in the forepart of the raft. Harry Blount was still the reservedEnglishman, who had scarcely addressed a word to her during the wholepassage over the Ural Mountains. Alcide Jolivet seemed to be rathermore grave than usual, and it may be acknowledged that his gravity wasjustified by the circumstances.
Jolivet had, as has been said, taken his seat on the raft, when he felta hand laid on his arm. Turning, he recognized Nadia, the sister of theman who was no longer Nicholas Korpanoff, but Michael Strogoff, Courierof the Czar. He was about to make an exclamation of surprise when he sawthe young girl lay her finger on her lips.
"Come," said Nadia. And with a careless air, Alcide rose and followedher, making a sign to Blount to accompany him.
But if the surprise of the correspondents had been great at meetingNadia on the raft it was boundless when they perceived Michael Strogoff,whom they had believed to be no longer living.
Michael had not moved at their approach. Jolivet turned towards thegirl. "He does not see you, gentlemen," said Nadia. "The Tartars haveburnt out his eyes! My poor brother is blind!"
A feeling of lively compassion exhibited itself on the faces of Blountand his companion. In a moment they were seated beside Michael, pressinghis hand and waiting until he spoke to them.
"Gentlemen," said Michael, in a low voice, "you ought not to know whoI am, nor what I am come to do in Siberia. 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 helpyou 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 Livenitchnaia, andentered the river. It was five in the evening and getting dusk. Thenight promised to be dark and very cold also, for the temperature wasalready below zero.
Alcide and Blount, though they had promised to keep Michael's secret,did not leave him. They talked in a low voice, and the blind man, addingwhat they told him to what he already knew, was able to form an exactidea of the state of things. It was certain that the Tartars hadactually invested Irkutsk, and that the three columns had effected ajunction. There was no doubt that the Emir and Ivan Ogareff were beforethe capital.
But why did the Czar's courier exhibit such haste to get there, now thatthe 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 andBlount could not understand it any more than Nadia had done.
No one spoke of the past, except when Jolivet thought it his duty to sayto Michael, "We owe you some apology for not shaking hands with you whenwe separated at Ichim."
"No, you had reason to think me a coward!"
"At any rate," added the Frenchman, "you knouted the face of thatvillain 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 wereacquainted with the cruel trials through which Michael and his companionhad successively passed. They could not but heartily admire his energy
,which was only equaled by the young girl's devotion. Their opinion ofMichael was exactly what the Czar had expressed at Moscow: "Indeed, thisis a Man!"
The raft swiftly threaded its way among the blocks of ice which werecarried along in the current of the Angara. A moving panorama wasdisplayed on both sides of the river, and, by an optical illusion, itappeared as if it was the raft which was motionless before a successionof picturesque scenes. Here were high granite cliffs, there wild gorges,down which rushed a torrent; sometimes appeared a clearing with a stillsmoking village, then thick pine forests blazing. But though the Tartarshad left their traces on all sides, they themselves were not to beseen as yet, for they were more especially massed at the approaches toIrkutsk.
All this time the pilgrims were repeating their prayers aloud, and theold boatman, shoving away the blocks of ice which pressed too near them,imperturbably steered the raft in the middle of the rapid current of theAngara.