The Great Siberian Railway by Francis E. Clark

Our friend in need proved a friend indeed, for it would have been no easy thing, knowing scarcely a word of the language, to disentangle our baggage, secure a cart to carry it, and droskies to carry ourselves, and make our way through the city of Khabaroffsk to the steamboat landing two miles away in season to catch the mail steamer, which, with steam up and whistle shrieking, was waiting to start on her long journey up the mighty Amour. But our official accomplished it all for us with celerity and despatch. He picked out our baggage, hired our droskies, took another himself, and drove to the steamer, saw our baggage safely bestowed in a state-room which had been secured for us at the governor's orders, and did not leave us until we were fairly established in our comfortable and commodious quarters on the _Baron Korff_. We appreciated this courtesy the more fully when we learned that the steamer was exceedingly crowded, that it went only once in five days, and that some people had already been waiting fifteen days for the coveted passage. Our rapid flight through Khabaroffsk was made in a cloud of dust which would have done honor to Peking itself, the dustiest city in the world. Through the dust, however, we were able to catch glimpses of a frontier American-like town, with some good business blocks of brick and a fine cathedral church. We afterwards learned that Khabaroffsk contains about fifteen thousand inhabitants, and its importance is derived from the fact that it is the highest seat of government for all this vast section of the Amour River. Sitting on a high bluff at the juncture of the Amour and the Ussuri, a great stream which here joins its forces with its greater rival, the town occupies a commanding position and is regally situated to dominate the traffic of both rivers. In any other land the Ussuri itself would be a notable river, but in this country of great rivers, though it is nearly a mile wide at its juncture with the Amour, it is only a branch of eastern Siberia's greater waterway.

Since the _Baron Korff_ was to be our home for the next week, and, in a literal as well as figurative sense, we were to be "all in the same boat" with the rest of her passengers, we were naturally anxious to know something of them and of her, if it is proper to speak of a baron as belonging to the feminine sex. A hasty inspection showed us that the _Baron Korff_ was a stately side-wheeler, such as might have done duty on the Mississippi before the railroads robbed her of her commercial glory. The first-class accommodations were well forward, and consisted of roomy and comfortably furnished staterooms for about twenty people on the upper deck, each room having berths for two people, a long dining-saloon, into which the state-rooms opened, and a pleasant saloon in front, handsomely furnished and provided with a good German piano. This saloon made a delightful sitting-room for the passengers, for its abundant glass furnished a splendid view of the river and the banks on either side, between which the _Baron_ made her devious way. Behind the first-class cabins was a large open space, sheltered from the wind, and suitable for a promenade. Here was a restaurant and bar, frequently patronized by some of our thirsty fellow-passengers, while behind it were the second-class cabins, which looked to me nearly as comfortable as those at the other end of the ship. Down below were huddled together a miscellaneous crowd of peasants -- men, women, and children -- with their scant piles of bedding and all their worldly possessions; sturdy men in top-boots and figured gowns belted at the waist, often with a sleeveless vest worn outside; women in gay calicoes and hobnailed shoes; children clad in little more than nature's original raiment -- all were here. On the hard iron floor they spread out their quilts, piled their household goods about them, and prepared to make the best of their six days in the bowels of the _Baron Korff_.