Yorkville enquirer. [volume] (Yorkville, S.C.) 1855-2006, 1897-08-18
CHAPTER v.
THE BURNING BARGE.

CHAPTER V.
THE BURNING BARGE.
On the bank of the river Tura, In
front of the gloomy palisades of the
great forwarding prison of Tiumen,
there were grouped one morning late
in the month of May a band Of Russian
exiles 400 or 900 in number.
A Gordon of soldiers hemmed them In
on all sides, and close by rallied plat
form zigzasged down the steep bank to
the waters edge, where lay long, low
vessel with black hull and yellow deck
work, a convict barge waiting to re-
ceive its cargo.
The wretched convicts represented all
sorts of types and contrasts-ferce
mountaineers from Circassia and Da-
ghestan, sunburned Tartars from the
lower Volga, Turks from the Crimea,
with their scarlet fezzes, and Jews
from Podolia.
A little apart from the rest stood two
youthful figures with haggard faces in
whom we find it difficult to recognize
Maurice Hammond and Philip Danvers
Partly by rail, partly by water, they
had journeyed, with many delays, along
the vast exile route.
Passing through the great fair city of
Mini Novgorod, the populous towns OF
Kazan and Perm, they crossed the
dreary range Of the Ural mountains,
passed the boundary line between Rus
sia and Siberia, and now, broken by
hardship and suffering, still ignorant of
their destination, they had reached
Tiumen, 1,7O0 miles from ST. Peters
burg.
The past seems almost dream Hope
has fed long ago, and they have learn
ed to suffer in silence, thankful at least
that they have not been separated from
each other.
In their character Of political prison
ers they have been treated with some
slight consideration, to distinguish them
from the coarser class of criminals, but
all attempts to obtain audience with
any officials, in hope Of convincing them
of the fearful mistake that has been
made, have been fruitless.
Vladimir Saradoif's triumph is COM
plete. The net is woven tightly about
his victims, and there is no escape from
the living death to which he has con-
signed them.
"Come on; they are going now," said
Maurice, and as he spoke commotion
was visible among the exiles, and the
commanding officer shouted:
Forward, now! Get on boardr'
In groups of twos and threes the
wretched prisoners filed down the plat
form past the armed guards, who stood
30 feet apart, and crossed the floating
wharf to the barge.
This vessel was about 100 feet long.
At each extremity was built q deck
house painted yellow. and the space be-
tween these was rooted over with tim
ber and faced with heavy wire screens.
In these pens the prisoners were placed.
Beneath the deck were dark, gloomy
holes, with tiers of narrow hunks,
where they were to sleep.
The boys sat down Oh the bare floor
in one corner Of the pen and watched
for an hour or two the strange scene
that was taking place before them.
The prisoners, crowding up against
the screen, were carrying on brisk
business with the peddlers and peasant
women who had come OH board the
barge with bread, cakes, salted cucum-
bers, strings of dried mushrooms and
fish pies.
The chatting and buying kept up
briskly until little past noon.
Then steamer backed up to the YES
sci, with great blowing Of whistles, and
in a few moments the convict barge
was speeding through the black current
of the river on its long voyage to Tomsk.
1t was evident that Captain Sasha,
the commandant of the Moscow prison,
had received special instructions con-
cerning the two boys. They were guard
ed more closely, it is true, than the
common prisoners. but as yet they had
not suffered the indignity of being
chained, and they were supplied with
reasonably good food.
Moreover, although they did not
know it themselves, they were being
transported across Siberia with rapid
ity that is seldom granted to Russian
exiles Instead of marching hundreds
of miles Oh foot, they had journcycd en-
tirely by rail and by water.
With their fellow passengers they had
little or nothing to do. They were al
low grade convicts-thieves, murderers,
bandits-a fact which Maurice was not
slow to recognize.
In the past two months the boys had
picked up a slight smattering of thf
Russian language and were now able !,
understand tho commands of the sol
diers and officers.
Day after day the barge moved slowly
on it's course, first up the sluggish cur
rent of the river Tobol and then down
the more impetpous waters Of the Oh.