480 
FOREST AND STREAM 
[June 20, 1903. 
Across Cibiria. 
(Continued.) 
So many have been the Polish exiles to Cibiria, tkat 
they have succeeded in perpetuating the name of their 
country and applying it to almost half the Asiatic 
continent. For from the Pacific Ocean to the Ural 
mountains, you will hear of Greater Poland — an 
eloquent tribute to the "efficacy" of the Czar— 
who didn't prove bomb-proof — who issued an ukase in 
the 'Co's, "blotting forever the name of Polska from the 
map of Europe !" 
As an illustration of the evil influence of the church 
in Cibiria, the following will suffice: I often heard the 
poor benighted mujiks referring to exiles as "social- 
istas" — ^just as if the latter were so many desperate 
criminals. Now, as the peasants cannot read — scarce 
one of them! such is the illiterac}- — they had learnt all 
they knew about socialism from their village priests, 
who (neither understanding anything about socialism) 
had been instructed by their "metropolitan" to in- 
veigh against the "something called socialism" as a 
sort of "frightful ogre" threatening the peace of the 
land. In vain I would tell, briefly, some of the tenets 
of socialism: as public ownership, direct production 
and consumption, a single tax, etc., etc.; and that 
rnany of its aims had nothing to do with politics. But 
it was no use trying to enlighten, except among some 
of the politicals. 
Every village has its mir (Asiatic, meaning elder 
or chief), who is seconded by a kaiidikat. There is 
an annual voting election by the shock-headed mujiks 
--the only golos (lit., voicing), they do in their lives, 
'i'he result.s of this communal administration are ap- 
parently nil — since the mujiks have no ambition to 
better themselves or their villages: in fact, usually the 
annual election is an excuse for a drunken bout. 
Here is an example of the depraved military system 
of Russia, and how it has become engrafted on the 
people's mind: If a woman can give birth, during her 
married life, to twelve sons, and show that they have 
all "done time" as soldiers (five years' compulsory 
military service, of course), she receives the "Czar's 
gold medal." 
Just think of it — a woman aspiring to receive a 
luker-medal for having had twelve sons brought up 
as "murder-machines!" And there are quite, a num- 
ber of peasant women who, in years gone by, have 
actually gotten out the "round dozen," seen them con- 
scripted, and received "distinction's worthless badge" 
(as Ingersoll was wont to have it) in the shape of an 
ill-gained gold medal. 
Poor benighted human rabbit-warren breeders! 
The lot of exiles has improved greatly in Cibiria 
during the last dozen years (except, apparently, in the 
extreme northeast). The Kennan-Century exposures 
did a deal of good, as I have pointed out at length in 
previous travel articles. 
The whole of Russiadom, from the Pacific to the 
Baltic, is the "best" example extant of the curse of 
protection. The Russian manufacturers clamor for a 
high tariff, not with a view of monopolizing home mar- 
kets, but so as to force their dear and shoddily-made 
goods on the consumers. The poorer classes prefer 
foreign-made goods, because they know them to be 
superior, and are willing to pay more for the inogtrani 
articles; so the only way to "correct" the consumers is 
to pile on a tariff which will make the ultra-frontier 
goods prohibitable. 
All working classes in Russia are probably the worst 
paid in Europe, and this is true also of the profes- 
sions. Here are some instances: Printer, 8 rubles 
weeklj^; mechanical engineer, 20 rubles; shoemaker, 6 
rubles; baker, 7 rubles; roadmaster, 8 rubles; railroad 
navvy, 3 rubles; tailor, 6 rubles; apothecary, 10 rubles; 
newspaper reporter, 10 rubles; woman stenographer, 
5 to 6 rubles; physician, 25 rubles; rubber factory em- 
ploye, 7 rubles, and so on through all the callings at 
similar poverty-stricken wages. An agricultural laborer 
would receive, at most, i ruble weekly, with free pig- 
sty and feed. 
Now, as the purchasing power of a ruble is but 
equal to what half a dollar will buy in America, it fol- 
lows the Russ only earns just enough to live on. 
The oflficial classes have "troubles of their own" in the 
problem of existence; but the poor classes! These 
poorer folk constitute the mass of the Slaf nation, and 
their lot is a dog's struggle for existence. Things are 
bad enough in Italy's sunny south, but then the dago 
has a genial climate, cheap wine and luscious fruits 
galore for a song. In Slafdom, the mujik scarce knows 
wine or fruit or things sweet ; while his climate is for 
six months a Dante's frigic inferno. 
Poor byrreps ! — (a Slaf slang word introduced from 
the southern Bulgars and meaning a "singularly un- 
fortunate person"). As you travel over the country 
for two years, you see the reign of hopeless poverty 
and the curse of protection on every hand. It is an 
empire of poverty! 
What will the end be? A repeat of the Gallic days of 
J793! 
I naturally took care, during two years of touring 
over Russian territory, not to criticise too keenly 
matters political Russian. I was not afraid of my 
opinions, nor afraid to express them, but I did fear 
being misrepresented. That is where the chief danger 
lies — in being misrepresented, and having your own 
well-defined and well-expressed views distorted when 
repeated by an ignorant or corrupt official "on the 
make." So, when asked a pointed question like, "Which 
do you consider the best government for this country 
— a republic or an autocracy?" — my guarded reply was: 
"I have an opinion, but not being a Russian grazdanin 
(citizen), do not care to express it. It is none of my 
business." 
The man who ought to have an opinion, but says he 
has none, is either a fool, a liar, or a coward. 
In a vast country like Cibiria, in which you could 
sink about three of oar United States, there are less 
than a score of newspapers. Only the exiles and high 
official and well-to-do merchant classes know how to 
read. Every paper is ridiculously censored: the cen- 
sor considers himself a somebody of great importance 
in Cibiria, and does not fail to show his hand. But, 
ho has got to earn his salary (which is about 50 rubles 
monthly), and must, of course, show that he is doing 
"something." Of course his wage is insufficient: it 
is equivalent to $25 of our money, but will only pur- 
chase what $18 or $15 win with us. So the censor 
makes a little honest money "on the quiet" by inform- 
ing the redaktors or publishers he will be less capri- 
cious with his forbidding blue pencil if he is placated 
with a stipulated monthly allowance. So the redaktor 
or izdatel will allow him all or part of what it would 
cost per month to re-arratige or re-set matter that 
would otherwise have been blue-penciled. 
The news printed is always belated. Thus, I was at 
the town of Nijni-Ydinck, Central Cibiria, when, on 
a Monday evening, the Boctochnoe Obozpenie, a semi- 
weekly of Irkutsk, came with the news of McKinley's 
election. Of course the result was known in America 
on the previous Tuesday night — so the news had taken 
six days for the cable and telegram to reach the heart 
of Cibiria. 
Just think of it — in the whole of Cibiria (about three 
times bigger than our own republic) there is not a 
single outing publication of the type in which these 
lines appear! 
Concentrated Provisions for Sportsmen. 
It may easily be conceived that "roughing it" in 
Cibiria with concentrated or condensed provisions, 
would put the same to a very severe test. Here are a 
few results: There is scarce any nutrition in extract of 
beef— con.sider it only as a stimulant. Calves' foot 
jelly is neither a stimulant nor nutritious. Beans are 
not worth carrying: they are just good enough to keep 
off . starvation, and even then care must be taken to 
previously mash or bite through each bean. Potatoes, 
also, are scarce worth carrying: they may give a sensa- 
tion of fullness, but that is not the kind of "nutrition" 
you want. Porridges are scarce worth the making: 
they will give you a blown-out feeling, quickly followed 
by so dissatisfied a sensation, you come to pronounce 
porridges, gruels, and the like a disgusting diet. Still, 
they are better than starvation. 
Nothing like, in place of the above, beefsteak and 
onions, ham and eggs, liver and bacon. Nothing like 
living well and comfortably when traveling. It is silly 
to impose on yourself polar-circle discomforts. 
The concentrated soups are worth little — too much 
of the element of mystery in them (like in German 
sausage)! The best plan is to carry along the material 
for your own soups. Commensurate with weight, 
evaporated turtle (unsalted) will enable you to make 
your own turtle soup; sun-dried evaporated oysters 
(50 cents per pound) will yield a good oyster stew, but 
require half a dozen hours' soaking in pretty warm 
water before cooking, to soften them. 
Dried cream is most useful for reconstituting into 
liquid cream; dried eggs should not be subjected to a 
heat, in cooking, exceeding 140 deg. Fahr., or they coagu- 
late. 
Crackers or biscuits are an unsatisfactory, indigesti- 
ble, too-dry diet. Take along your own flour and have 
your own hot rolls daily. 
Beware of coffee essetices! Take along your own 
ground coffee, properly tinned. No correct coffee es- 
sence has yet been produced: they all have the dissatis- 
fying, "washed-out" flat taste. 
Avoid canned, bottled and jarred goods. They all 
represent idle weight to 75 to 85 per cent, of water. 
Saccharin is a most unsatisfactory substitute for 
sugar — yet a couple of ounces of the crystal (not 
powder) will be useful. 
A Visit to Tolstoi. 
I made a visit to Tolstoi, at his domain at laznia- 
noliana, south of Mockba. The sojourn lasted three 
days, and the mornings were devoted to short walks 
over his estate, and the discussion of topics, abstract 
and general. 
Being assigned a room entirely to myself, next to 
that occupied by citizen Thick (for in the Russian lan- 
guage, Tolstoi means thick), I naturally saw a good 
deal of him, and the many aspects of his character. 
This also furnished the writer with copy for his "Tols- 
toi Among His Books," which appeared in the Man- 
hattan Bookseller for June, '99 — -an article that was 
widely credited in both hemispheres. 
"You ought to write the account of your visit to 
Tolstoi for one of the Sunday papers." said my old 
friend Munro, the elocutionist, at his Brooklyn home. 
"Try the Journal or the World. They'll only be too 
glad to get it! Try it!" 
So I did try. The Journal said no. The World also 
s^id no. "But who is this Tolstoi, anyway?" said the 
World reader — "Prize fighter?" 
Plow's that for the "latest" in jaundice journalism? 
It appears that many Sundaj' papers employ what 
are termed "readers," who, at $5 to $7.50 per week, 
read over and decide on the "merits" of copy sent in. 
It stands to reason that in such "illumined minds" ar- 
ticles of the "secret doings of the divorce court" and 
"mysteries of the matrimonial agency" stand a much 
better chance of acceptance than would an epoch-mak- 
ing brief from Herbert Spencer or a brainy sociologic 
study from Krapotkin. 
Tolstoi a Sportsman of the Old School. 
Tolstoi is an old soldier and an old sportsman. He 
has no martial scars; but he has a serious one received 
in the domain of sport (?). He showed me the cica- 
trix on his scalp, inflicted by a bruin. He had tripped 
in backing from and after having wounded the bear; 
instantly the enraged animal was upon him, paws on 
breast, and evidently determined to chew up the pros- 
trate hunter's face. Tolstoi vividly related to me how 
he insi inclively tried to force his chin on to his breast, 
so as to prevciil (lie bear getting much hold surface on 
his face, and the bt-ar's teetli sloughed over the fore- 
head and got a grip on the scalp, tearing it, and mak- 
ing work for a life-long scar. At this cri|;ical iTiornent 
Tolstoi's companion had come up and plugged bruin 
for good. 
Even in Cibiria it is an open question among sports- 
men whether it is best to go off alone or in pairs. 
The more successful trappers and Indians almost in- 
variably go to hunt alone — one of their arguments 
being, that two are liable to get in each other's way. 
One noted Russian sportsman — Prince Obolenski — 
who invited me to stay in his big white house a couple 
of days, said one thing he disliked in life was to go off 
with a whole crowd of people composing the average 
"shooting party." 
A Ventriloqutal Sportsman. 
I possess the faculty of ventriloquism to a remark- 
able degree, but never cultivated it publicly, which 
would be entirely incompatible with a professional ca- 
reer; so confined myself to developing the gift into 
ventriloquizing my favorite instrumental music — the 
violin family. This, for my own diversion "at home 
and abroad." But it has often proved "an introduc- 
tion sweet and gentle" when among family circles in 
distant climes, like Cibiria and Russia. I would ac- 
company Tolstoi as he played the piano, but the veii- 
triloquial tuning-up would convulse him with laughter 
; — as it has many another private little audience. For 
it is as necessary for me to briefly "tune up" (ventrilo- 
quially), to get into pitch or trim, as it is with a regu- 
larly appointed orchestra. The ventriloquial effect is 
ridiculously, _ provokingly, an effective take-off of the 
orchestral violin tuning-up. L. Lodian, 
Three Hunts. 
I. 
"What's that about a moose?" 
"Williams shot another one to-night, but he denies 
"Kill him any deader than he did that one last 
night?" 
"Now, who told you I shot that dog last night?" 
put in Mr. W. "I asked Young not to tell you fellows 
about that!" 
"Who said anything about shooting a dog?" asked 
another. 
Young, Hewitt, Owens and Williams had come from 
several corners of the earth, and met at Mr. Buford's 
place in the Mississippi Bottom country. Here Mr. 
Collier joined the party, and they pitched camp on the 
bank of a lake several miles within the forest on the 
edge of which Buford lives. Another lake, a mile from 
camp, was wider and had banks less steep. On this one 
the boys had launched two dugouts and head-lighted 
for 'coons. 
Now a 'coon's eye is different from a moose's eye, 
and if what Williams saw from under his lamp didn't 
look like a 'coon, perhaps he took it to be a moose. 
In any event, he fired, and the pair of eyes faded from 
IN THE MISSISSIPPI COON COUNTRY. 
his vision, while plaintive yelps and fleeting footsteps 
proclaimed to the ears of Young, well versed in art of 
woodcraft, the fact that Williams had shot something 
— not a 'coon nor a moose! 
"No, he didn't kill him dead. This one yelped, too!" 
The next night on the lake was uneventful. The 
writer had joined the party, and was given a place in 
the boat with Young and Collier. From half a mile 
away Williams could be heard explaining to the occu- 
pants of the other boat how it was that what he shot 
was not a 'coon. As a result of the efforts of both 
boats' parties, several 'coons were taken to camp, and 
their pelts saved by the gentleman with an automo- 
bile, to make into a robe. Thus do automobiles not 
only accomplish death by accident for their operators, 
but tempt them to the killing of even many unob- 
trusive and harmless raccoons, to insure the area of 
pelt needed for an auto robe. It is thought by some 
sport snien to be wrong to kill many 'coons and throw 
their carcasses away, for a frivolous conceit. 
Rain the following moming spoiled the deer drive. 
Dinner was Brunswick stew, well peppered. With the 
warmth thereof to cheer me, an afternoor>'.s turn 
