WRECK OF THE ST. NIKOLAI
Note: The experience of the the St. Nikolai crew, at the hands of native Oregonians, put an end to Russian plans to colonize Oregon. Instead, subsequent Russian expansion southward, from Alaska, was focused on northern California (click here). Click here for the The Quileute Narrative of these events.
The Narrative of
Timofei Tarakanov
The Company brig Sv. Nikolai, on which I sailed in the position of supercargo, was under the command of Navy Navigator Bulygin, dispatched to the coast of New
Albion [Oregon] under a special commission from the chief manger of the colonies. We departed [from New Arkhangel] on eptember 29,1808, and about the 10th of October approached he Cape of Juan de Fuca, which lies at 48 22’ N. Latitude.2 Iere a calm held us up four days. Then a light westerly breeze
began to blow, bringing us near the shore to the south, which we charted on the maps and added to our notes. During the iight we usually moved out from the shore somewhat, then luring the day moved in very close.
At this time many of the natives came out to us in their canoes. Sometimes the number of boats at the ship’s side reached
several dozen and even up to a hundred. The canoes were not very large. A few might seat approximately ten, but most held
only three or four persons. Nevertheless we were cautious, nd never allowed more than three of the natives aboard our hip at any one time. This precaution seemed all the more esential to us because they were armed. Many even had firearms,
while the others carried arrows made of deer horn, iron spears
without shafts, and bone spikes fitted on long shafts. The latter were similar to our two-pronged pitchforks. In addition they
had a particular kind of weapon made of whalebone, shaped ike a chopping knife or a Turkish saber about a half arsbin
[14 inches] in length, two and a half diums
[2 1/2 inches] in breadth, a quarter lum thick and with both edges blunt. At
first we could not imagine the purpose such a weapon might serve, but afterwards
we learned that they were used on the night attacks so customary among the local
peoples: stealing into enemy lodgings, they strike their sleeping foes on the
head with these chopping knives.
The natives brought us sea otters, deer hides, and fish to trade. For a large halibut I paid them a four arsbin string [about nine feet] of large trade beads [korol’ki] and a five or six ver sbok string [nine to eleven inches] of glass pearls. But they would not trade their otter for our beads and fake pearls With r disdain they even refused the nankeen cotton and various iron instruments, demanding the woolen cloth they had seen in the jackets of our promysblenniks. But we had none, and so we could not
trade.
Gentle breezes and favorable weather lasted for several days But then one night—I do not remember the exact date— around midnight a steady wind came up, and toward dawn it increased to the level of a violent gale. The commander of the brig ordered all sails secured except for the mainsail, which was entirely reefed, and we lay to. For three days the storm raged with undiminished strength. On the fourth day, before dawn, it suddenly eased and fell quiet; but the seas continued to run exceptionally high and a fog enshrouded us completely. Soon after sunrise the fog disappeared, and then we saw the shore not more than three versts [about two miles] away. We threw out the sounding line: the depth was fifteen fathoms. The calm prevented us from using the sails to move away from danger, and the swell made it impossible to tow the ship with a rowboat, forcing us to drift closer and closer to shore. Finally it brought us so close that with our naked eyes we could clearly see the birds perched on the rocks.
According to our calculations, at this point we were located opposite a bay called Kloukoty
by the natives, the southern cape of which lies at 490 and several minutes
N. Latitude.6 When the winds are light, American ships often enter this bay, but
during a storm or when the waves are high such an endeavor would be accompanied by extreme peril.
It seemed to us that the loss of the ship was inevitable, and we expected death at any moment. Then, through the grace of
God, we received a northwest wind which kept us away from the shore. This wind, however, after having favored us for six hours, turned into a terrible gale that forced us to take in all sails and heave to. Afterwards, as the storm grew
calm, winds blew from various directions and at diverse strengths. By using them we moved farther south.
On October 29th, sailing before a moderate south wind, we approached the coast and passed to the south of Destruction Island, which lies at 470 33’ N. Latitude. But, to our misfortune, there was no suitable anchorage and we found that we had to head out to sea again. Scarcely had we reached a point two or three miles from shore when suddenly it fell quiet, and the whole night passed without a breath of wind while the swell carried us toward the coast. On the afternoon of the 31st, at about 2:00, we drifted slowly past the island mentioned above, passing along the northern side, and approached some rocks not more than a mile from terra firma.
The commander of the brig, Navigator Bulygin, uncertain how to proceed, now called together a general council. Here we agreed to steer through the rocks, hoping to drift by them toward the shore itself. We succeeded in clearing these rocks, only to find ourselves in the midst of dangerous shoals, with some rocks visible above the water and others hidden below the surface. The commander ordered an anchor dropped, and soon another; but they did not hold the vessel, and the ship continued to drift closer to shore. The remaining two anchors were dropped, and the ship then stopped—but not for long. That evening, when it had grown dark, two of our anchor cables wore through and snapped from scraping on the rocks. Around midnight the third gave way also. Shortly thereafter a fresh breeze came up from the southwest, breaking the last of our cables.
Now we were left with no means to save the brig and ourselves except to risk heading out to sea between the rocks. The wind directionvou1d not allow us to sail back the way we had entered; and so we set out, as they say “where the eyes look.” To our astonishment, despite extreme darkness, we made our way through a passage so narrow that surely no other navigator would have dared it even in broad daylight. But we had barely
managed to escape this danger when the foreyard broke. Under the circumstances we could not take in the sail to make repairs.
We could only keep on until repairs might be possible.
At dawn the wind shifted directly toward the coast. We were still unable to repair the foreyard, and we had no spare.
Without the foresail there was not the slightest chance of tacking
against the wind and moving away from the shore, which we were approaching very rapidly. Finally, at ten o’clock on the morning of November 1st, a swell cast us into the surf and then ashore at 470 56’N. Latitude. Thus the brig met its fate.
Now it was necessary to think about our own safety. We had_ to save ourselves, and also to rescue our firearms, our only means to preserve our
liberty. If captured, we would live out a miserable life as slaves of the savages, a consequence a hundred times more horrible than death. The surf was pounding our ship from side to side in an awful fashion and the hold was already full of water. With weapons in our hands, we waited for the instant a large wave struck broke against the ship, then flowed away from shore. At this moment we jumped overboard and ran for the dry land beyond the line of the surf. There we carried arms and ammunition passed to us by our companions who remained on the brig. By great good fortune it happened that we had struck on a sandbank that was soft ground and above water at low tide. Every part of the ship had been shaken loose and it was full of water; but even so it remained whole, and when the tide receded it was left on dry land.
Immediately we took the cannon, powder, and various other necessities from the ship. Next we cleaned the firearms and
loaded them with fresh charges of powder, making ready to
beat off an attack of the savages, who we now had cause to fear more than anything else on earth. Finally we set up two tents
made from the ship’s sails, which we pitched about seven sazbens [about fifty feet] apart. Nikolai Isaakovich [Bulygin] and I took the smaller tent for ourselves. With this much accomplished, we lighted a big fire to warm and dry ourselves.
We had hardly completed these first tasks when a large number of the natives, who had seen us land, came close. Meanwhile the navigator had taken four promysblennzks with him and set out for the brig, intending to save the topmasts and sails
while removing the upper rigging so the ship would roil less at high tide. As a precaution they took along a slow match, since several cannon still remained aboard the vessel. The commander directed the work himself, standing alongside the brig. He ordered me to keep watch for any movement or attack by the savages. Near our camp we posted guards and sentries at the appropriate places.
Inside our tent remained Anna Petrovna (the wife of Bulygin), the woman of a Kodiak Aleut, myself, and a pair of the local natives who had voluntarily joined us. One of these natives, a young man who called himself a toyon
[chieftain], invited me to inspect his residence, located not far from us. At first I agreed to go with him; but my companions, suspecting treachery from the savages, would not let me go. I tried everything to convince this toyon of our peaceableness and to persuade him not to harm us nor try our patience. He promised friendship and declared he would attempt to bring his fellow countrymen around to the same attitude.
Meanwhile our crewmen came to me twice to report that the Koliuzbi [Indians] were pilfering our things.7 I tried to persuade our people to try as best they could not to start any fights. “Stand fast, men,” I said to them, “and do the best you can. Try somehow to get them out of the camp without fighting.” At the same time I protested to the toyon about the malicious actions of his subjects, and asked him to order them to leave us in peace. Since we did not understand each other very well, our conversation was
prolonged.
Even while I was reasoning with him and conducting negotiations, matters came to a head. Our men began driving the savages out of the camp, and they in turn began hurling rocks. Anna Petrovna was the first to see this, and said to me: “They are throwing stones at our men.” At that very moment the promysblenniks opened fire on the Koliuzbi. I rushed out of the tent, only to be hit with a spear that wounded me in the chest. Turning, I seized a gun and. ran toward the savages. I saw the one who had wounded me. He was standing near the tent, holding a spear in his left hand and a rock in his right. He threw the rock and hit me in the head, the blow striking me so hard I could not stand, and was forced to sit down on a nearby log.
But I had gotten off a shot that brought down my foe dead on the ground.
Very soon the savages fled. In this encounter they also succeeded in wounding our commander in the back with a spear and in the ear with a rock In addition, except for the four
who had been in the boat, every last person suffered injury to greater or lesser degree from the stoning. We killed three of the enemy, one of whom they dragged away. How many
we wounded I do not know. As spoils we acquired a large number of spears, raincoats, hats, and other things left at the scene
of
the battle.
During the night we changed the guards around the camp once. Those not on watch gathered in the tent and bewailed their sad fate.
The next morning we made a reconnaissance of the surrounding area and selected a place that we would
fortify for
our protection and spend the winter. But we found the coast at this point lacking in advantages for a party in our predicament. The land was covered with dense forest, which extended so near the water that large waves washed the trees.
Soon the commander gathered us all together and revealed. his plans with the following words: “Gentlemen, according to the instructions given me by the chief manager of the colonies, I know that the Company ship Kad’iak is coming to these shores and specifically to a harbor lying not more than sixty-five [nautical] miles from the place where we are now located. Between these two points the map shows no bay, no cove, nor even a single flyer. Hence we should be able to reach that harbor quite easily. As you can see, we are obviously exposed here to the threat of almost certain death. The savages could very easily exterminate us, and we have no possibility of remaining here. If we leave this place immediately, they will stay to plunder the ship and divide their loot. Most likely they will not pursue UQ for they will have no need to do so.”
To this speech we answered in one voice: ‘We place ourselves in your hands.”
Accordingly, each man took two guns and a pistol, and we loaded together all the boxes of cartridges, three kegs of powder, a small quantity of foodstuffs, and we set out on our way. As
for the remaining weapons, we spiked the cannon and smashed the locks on the guns and pistols, then threw them into the ocean. Powder, pikes, axes, and all other iron tools were also thrown into the sea..
We began our march by crossing the river on our skiff.9 We -proceeded through the forest three [nautical] miles, then halted for the evening on account of darkness and set up our camp. The night passed very quietly, as we slept under the protection of four guards.
In the morning we emerged from the forest onto the seashore, rested, cleaned our weapons, and proceeded onwards. Early in the afternoon, between one and two o’clock. two say- -ages caught up with our party. One was the very same starsbina [headman or elder] who had been with us in the tent at the beginning of the recent clash. We asked what they wanted. They replied that they had come to show us the way, since we -would have a very winding route if we followed along the shore, and we would meet impassable cliffs. They stated there was a path through the forest, easy and straight, which they
advised us to take. But they were anxious to leave us.
I asked them to wait a little bit and see the way our firearms could perform. After drawing a small circle on the board, I fired -at it with a rifle from a distance of approximately thirteen fathoms [about seventy feet], hitting the target and making a hole in the board. By this act I meant to demonstrate to them the danger they would meet if they were thinking about attacking us. The savages examined the hole in the board, measured the distance, then left us.
That night we camped in the forest at the foot of a cliff 2 where, by chance, we discovered a cave for shelter. During the night a violent rain and snow storm struck In the morning the wind quieted, but the miserable weather continued and forced 2 us to spend the day in the cave. Rocks fell from the cliff near us during the day. At*st we could not figure out the cause. Then we discovered that our enemy, the savages, had pushed them off the cliff to hit us. This we realized when three of these people raced past us, running along the path we had to take.
The following morning the weather turned clear and beautiful. We set out again on our route, and near midday we came
to a small
but rather deep stream. Alongside this stream ran a well-traveled path, which we
followed in the hope of finding a crossing place. Toward night we came to a
single large hut. No one was there, but it held a great amount of dried coho
salmon.>10> A fire was burning nearby, and in the stream alongside this
hut was a weir for catching the fish. We took twenty-five dried salmon and left
about three fathoms [about eighteen feet] of -glass beads and several large
trade beads, knowing that these articles were highly valued by the local
savages. Having paid for the fish in this manner, we left the hut and went into
the forest some one hundred fathoms [600 feet] and made camp for the night.>
The savages assumed that the guns which had been in the canoe must be wet and out of commission. Quickly they crossed to our side, armed with spears, arrows, and two guns. We foresaw their vicious intent and hastily fortified our position as best we could. The savages drew up their forces in formation about forty sazbens [about ninety yards] from the position we held then began to shoot their arrows at us and fired a single gur shot. We still had several dry guns with which we fought off the enemy, driving them away within half an hour. Before they took flight many of their warriors were wounded and two were left-behind on the battlefield. On our side Sobachnikov was mortally wounded by an arrow, part of which remained in his belly.’ He was in no condition to travel with us. But we could not leave him as a sacrifice to the barbarians, and so we carried him.
When we had gone about a verst from the scene of the’ battle, our wounded comrade begged us to leave him behind 1 to die in the quiet of the forest. He was suffering unbearable pain and was not far from death. He told us to leave him so we could increase our distance from the savages, who were undoubtedly sending for reinforcements and would pursue us. We said farewell to our unfortunate friend and, mourning his sad fate, we abandoned him during his last minutes of life.
After continuing on our way the rest of the day, we found at last a suitable camping place for the night in mountains covered with forest.The danger in which we found ourselves all during that day, the fear and unceasing concern about keeping ourselves alive, had given us no time for reflection. But that night while we rested, our first thought was of the great number of savages we had encountered. We could not understand how more than two hundred persons could fit in six lodges. Later we learned that they had gathered by plan from several places to attack us. More than fifty were from those people who had attacked us when the ship was wrecked, and many were even from Cape Grenville.’>2>
Our situation seemed miserable. We felt terrified and in the depths of despair. But our unhappy commander suffered more than anyone else. For he had lost his wife, whom he loved more than himself and knew nothing of her fate at the hands of the barbarians. Bulygin was tortured grievously. One could not look at him without being moved to the greatest sympathy and team.
On [the following three days,] the 9th, 10th, and 1lth, it poured rain. Without knowing where to go, we wandered in the forest and the mountains, trying only to escape from the savages. We feared to meet these enemies in such bad weather, when our guns would be useless. Hunger completely exhausted us. We could find no mushrooms or any other wild food, and were forced to eat tree fungus, the [walrus-hide] soles of torbusy, intestinal and throat kamleia, and the gun covers made from dressed sea lion hide. Finally even these poor provisions came to an end. We then decided to return to the river, where we had seen two lodges along the bank But the weather turned exceptionally wet and we feared to meet a large number of savages at that place. For this reason we moved away from the coast into the forest about five versts (about three miles], pitched the tent and spent the night. On the 12th we had not even a speck of food. Our commander sent a detachment into the forest to gather mushrooms among the trees. Could it be possible to satisfy [the hunger of] sixteen persons by such expedients? We resolved to butcher our steadfast friend, our unfailing sentinel, our faithful dog and the meat was shared equally by everyone. At this hour of misfortune Bulygin gathered us together and, with tears in his eyes, said to us all: “Brothers, I have never been in such a dire predicament before, and I have almost lost my mind. No longer do I have the strength to lead you. I now commission Tarakanov to command you, and I will also obey him myself If he is not to your liking, then by all means choose anyone you prefer from among your comrades.” But everyone declared their agreement with the selection made by Nikolai Isaakovich. He then took a piece of paper and wrote in pencil a statement regarding my elevation to commander, signed it with his own hand, and after him the statement was signed by all the others who could write. On November 13th it rained heavily, forcing us to spend the whole day at the same place. Weate the rest of the dog meat and, not having any more food, agreed the next day to attack the two lodges we had seen. On the 14th the weather turned in our favor and the day wa clear. We crept up to the lodges and surrounded them, then yelled so that anyone inside would run out; but we found there only one captive, a boy about thirteen years old. He revealed by gestures that all the people had crossed the river, frightened by signs [of our presence]. Each of us grabbed twenty five fisl in bundles and we then started back toward camp. Scarcely had we gone one verst from the lodge when we saw a savage running after us, crying out something we could not understand We feared he would reveal our hiding place, so we pointed our guns at him and this forced him to keep his distance. Along the way my comrades—with my consent—decided to stop and eat, [making their halt] in a ravine with a small creek Meanwhile, accompanied by the promysblennik Ovchinnikovand one Aleut, I climbed the nearest hill to survey the surrounding territory. Ovchinnikov was climbing in the lead. Scarcely had he reached the top of the hill when he was struck in the_ back with an arrow. Seeing him hit, . I called out to the Aleut who was following him to pull out the arrow. But just at that moment he was also hit and wounded. I turned around_ and saw on the hill opposite us, beyond the creek, a vast number of Koliuzbi. Also I caught sight of about twenty-five warriors who were running to cut off the three of us from our comrades. The arrows meanwhile were falling all around us like hail. At once I fired my gun at them, wounding one in the leg The savages lifted the wounded man onto their shoulders and ran off, while we reached our halting place and joined our comrades _ There we attended to the wounded, finding that their injuries were not serious. We stayed two days at this place to restore our strength with food and to rest the wounded. Here we devised and approved a new plan of action. Already the time of year made it impossible for us to reach the harbor and meet the expected ship, particularly since we did not know when we would be able to cross the river. For this reason we decided to move upriver until we came to the lake out of which it flowed, or to the most suitable place on the river for -fishing Here we would fortify a place, spend the winter, and take action in the spring according to future circumstances. After reaching this decision we marched to the river and proceeded upstream without stopping. Only when we met an impassible thicket or cliff did we move away into the mountains, but then we would soon return to the riverside again. Terrible rain, falling almost without letup, greatly impeded our march. We advanced but very slowly. Fortunately, we often came upon the natives traveling in canoes on the river. Several of them, at our invitation, came to the bank and traded us fish in return for glass beads, buttons, and other trifles. Over the next several days we advanced a rather long distance along the winding river, but only about twenty versts [about 13 miles] in a direct line. Suddenly we found ourselves before the very doors of two lodges. We asked [the occupants] to trade us some fish and received a very meager amount. They declared they had no more, and blamed the shortage upon the high water that had covered the fish traps through which the salmon must pass. By necessity we were forced to take strong measures, measures which our conscience completely justified. The natives had driven us to the last stage of human misery. Consequently we had every right not only to take from their countrymen by force what we needed for our lives, but also to take vengeance upon them. From our standpoint it may thus be thought that we showed a spirit of magnanimity by not wanting to inflict on them any great physical harm. Hence, in a loud, commanding tone, we ordered the people in the lodges immediately to deliver to us all the fish they had. Our demand was instantly met, and we each took a bundle [of the dried salmon] and two sealskin bags of roe. For all of this we paid the savages well, giving glass beads and metal beads; a trade that was made, as they say, to their complete satisfaction. We then persuaded them to give us two men to help carry the provisions to our first night’s camp. [With this aid] we took up our march, traveled about two versts, and made camp for the night. To each of the savages we gave a cotton handkerchief for their work and set them free. The next morning two Koliuzbi came to our camp and very boldly entered our tent. One of them was the headman of the lodge from which we had taken the fish; the other was unknown to us. They had brought a bladder full of whale oil to trade. After talking with us about this matter, the stranger asked >us whether we wanted to buy back from him our woman Anna, knowing Mrs. Bulygin by this name. This astounding proposition brought cheer to us all; but Bulygin, hearing his words, was beside himself with joy. At once we began to negotiate for her return. Bulygin offered him the last greatcoat for his wife. To the coat I added my new nankeen cotton dressing gown. All our other comrades, not excluding even the Aleuts, added something: one gave his tunic, another his baggy trousers; and at last a substantial pile was accumulated. But the savage declared that to his countrymen this was too little and he demanded in addition four guns. We did not refuse him, but stated that before concluding the deal we wanted to see Anna Petrovna. The savage agreed to give us this satisfaction, and immediately left our camp. In a short while his countrymen brought her to the farther bank of the river directly across from us. We implored them to bring her to our side. They set her in a canoe with two men and, after coming toward our shore, halted at a distance of about fifteen or twenty sazbens [about thirty-five or forty-five yards] and began to negotiate with us. I could not even imagine what the unhappy couple felt during this meeting Anna Petrovna and her spouse each melted into tears, sobbed, and could scarcely talk Looking at them, we too wept bitterly. Only the savages remained unmoved by this pathetic spectacle. She tried to calm her husband, assuring him that they kept her well and treated her humanely. The people seized with her, she said, were alive and now were staying near the mouth of the river.After speaking with her, we began to bargain with the savages over the purchase price. We offered all the previous articles for her and added one broken musket. But they stood firm in wanting four guns. When they saw that we hesitated to meet their demand, they quickly carried her back across the river.
At that point Bulygin, again taking on the attitude of commander, ordered me to pay the savages all they demanded. I pointed Out to him that we had only one good musket for each man, that we had no tools for repairing them, and that these guns were the only things that could save us. To give away such a number of muskets would be foolish; and, if we were to en- gage in battle again, these same muskets would be used against us. To obey his order, I insisted, would ruin us. Hence I asked him to forgive me, but concluded that I must venture to disobey him. For his own reasons, excusable without a doubt, he had no wish to agree with my argument. By flattery and promises he tried to persuade the others to give in to his wishes. I then stated to my comrades in a strong decisive tone that if they agreed to hand over even one musket to the Koliuzbi, I would no longer be their companion but would join the savages. At this everyone, to the last man, answered together that so long as we were alive we would not surrender our weapons for any possible reason. We knew this refusal would be a shock to our distraught commander. But what else could we do! A person’s life and his liberty are the most precious things on earth, and we had no wish to lose them. After this painful episode, we moved back upriver for several days. Often we saw native voyagers m their canoes, which convinced us that a settlement must be located not far up the river. We decided we wanted to reach this settlement; but on December 10th came the first heavy snowfall, and our plans were thwarted. The snow did not melt, so we could not continue our march. Now it became essential that we give attention to the best way to spend the winter and feed ourselves. With this purpose I ordered the men to clear a space alongside the river, to cut down some trees and build a cabin. Meanwhile we lived in the tents. The problem of getting food worried us most of all. One day toward evening, while we were building our shelter, a canoe approached in which there were three persons, one of whom was a young man. We supposed that this youth, an alert lad, must be the son of some toyon, and we were not mistaken. In answer to our query, he said that their settlement was located very close by. We asked if they would take one of us with them to buy fish and return him to our camp. They were pleased to agree to this proposal at once and made ready to leave with extraordinary hgste. No doubt they were glad to have such an excellent chance to take one of us captive so easily. Kurmachev, one of our promysblenniks, was ready to go with him. When they asked him to get into their canoe with >greater speed, however, we requested that they leave a hostag with us in his place. That idea they did not like at all; but, sinc there was no help for it, they had to comply. We kept the savages. under close guard all night. The next day we freed him whe they brought back Kurmachev. He arrived, however, with empty hands. The Koliuzbi had given him nothing and sold him nothing Their settlement consisted of one lodge in which Kurmachev had seen six men, in addition to the three who vis ited us, and three women. The savages had deceived us. For this we decided to seek satisfaction from them by other means. We placed our guests under guard, then used their boat to send to their settlement six armed men, who seized all their fish and brought it home to our camp in the evening. Then we released our captives, givtng then what presents we could. Soon afterwards an old man arrived in a canoe, bringing ninety salmon that he then traded us_ for brass buttons. In several days our cabin or barracks was ready and we _ moved into our new home. It was rectangular, with sentry boxes at the corners for the guards. Shortly thereafter the same young man, the toyon’s son with whom we had already done business, paid another visit to us. Again we asked him to sell us some fish but received only a brusque refusal. We placed him under guard and declared we would not allow him his freedom until he secured for us the amount of fish necessary for the winter. We demanded four hundred salmon and ten bags of roe, I showing the number with marks on a stick Once he learned our demand, he sent off his companions in a huriy though where they were going we knew not. During the following week they returned to our camp twice, and each time they spoke quietly with our captive. The second time they came, our hostage begged us to allow some canoes with his people to pass down the river. We agreed willingly, and in half an hour thirteen canoes, in which there were up to seventy persons of both sexes, passed us. Soon these people returned and supplied us with the amount of fish and roe we had demanded. Even more important, we secured from them a canoe that could carry up to six persons. Then we released the young man, our prisoner, after presenting him with a broken gun, a cloth cloak, a patterned blanket [odeialo sittsevoe], and a nankeen cotton shirt. Now that we had our own canoe, we sent it out frequently with armed men to catch fish for ourselves. The Koliuzbi left us alone, and we—having gained this miportant concession—remained for a long time the sole inhabitants of our realm of land and water. There we lived quietly all winter and had plenty of food.’>4> All winter we occupied ourselves with plans for the future. I proposed a plan my comrades approved, that we build another canoe and in the spring go upriver as far as possible. Then, after abandoning the canoes, we would go into the mountains, head south, and travel to the Columbia River, along whose banks live a people not so barbaric as those we had to deal with in our present locality. This most difficult course of action we were driven to adopt only by absolute necessity. The savages, we learned, had gathered a large force at the mouth of the river, intending to do us the utmost harm if we should attempt to leave by way of the seashore. In this case, we knew, they would pursue us relentlessly. With our plans fixed, we made ready the canoes and were only awaiting the arrival of warm days when suddenly a totally unexpected event completely upset all our calculations. Bulygin announced that he wanted to resume command and began to act like a commander with the crew I made not the slightest objection, turned the authority over to him, and was very glad to be rid of the worry and anxiety that accompany the responsibffity of leadership in so critical a situation. On February 8, 1809, we abandoned our cabin along with a fair amount of fish, started down the river, and then halted at the place where the Koliuzbi had offered us a chance to buy back Mrs. Bulygin the previous year. We saw our commander’s objective and were inclined to go along. His misery and the pitiful situation of his wife we understood, and we agreed that it was better to expose ourselves to danger than to drive him to despair by opposing his plan. While we were there an old man visited us and gave us an i,sbkat [watertight basket] of stewed kvas.” He was curious to know where we were going. We told him to the mouth of the river, and then he wanted to learn where we were going from there, but this we did not know ourselves. The old man was— very obliging, but for what purpose was another matter. After seeing that our fire was being drenched by a heavy downpour he left us and soon returned with two wide planks to shield it from the wind and rain. For this we gave him a handkerchief and a fur cap. He then offered to accompany us to the mouth of the river as a guide, explaining that he could protect our Canoes from snags and log jams. We accepted his services and were very pleased with them. He went ahead and showed us -the safest passages. Where there were many logs, he sat in our boats and guided us with great care. In this manner we continued our journey until we came to a small island. There our guide suddenly stopped and advised us to land on the riverbank while he went across to the island, where we saw several persons rushing back and forth with bows and arrows. The old man meanwhile had pushed off but - quickly returned and told us that a large number of people had gathered on the island with the intention of throwing spears and shooting arrows at us as we passed them. He therefore proposed to take us around by another, very narrow channel, and he kept his word precisely.When we reached the mouth of the river, we halted opposite the settlement of the savages on the other bank, where they had located their lodges and hauled their canoes out of the water onto the bank We presented our guide with a long shirt [rubasbka] and a neckerchief. In addition we rewarded him with a medal, stamped in this case out of pewter. On one side we depicted an eagle of sorts, which represented Russia, and on the other the year, month, and day when this savage, -Liutliuliuk by name, received it. We told him to wear it around Z his neck
Early the next day a large number of people came across the river to see us. Among them were two women, and one of these women was the same treacherous wench who had been party to the deception that had carried Mrs. Bulygin and the other three across the river when the savages had taken them prisoner. We immediately seized the women and one young man, tied them up, and declared to their countrymen that we would not free them until they returned our captives.
Soon the husband of one of the captive women came to us. He convinced us that our people were not there, since they had fallen by lot to another tribe, but that he would go after them and would return them all to us within four days if only we would promise not to kill his wife. Our commander, hearing this promise, was overwhelmed with joy, and we immediately decided to spend several days there.Because the land was very low and it flooded at night when the wind was strong, we moved to a hill located about a verst away and fortified the place.
Eight days after our talks regarding an exchange of prisoners, about fifty Koliuzbi men came to the opposite bank and wanted to open negotiations with us. With several of my comrades I immediately went down to the edge of the river. The savages were commanded by an elderly man dressed in a European jacket, trousers, and a beaver hat. With them, to our great joy, we saw our Anna Petrovna.
After preliminary greetings, Mrs. Bulygin declared that the woman we held was the sister of the toyon who was dressed in European fashion, that both she and her brother were very fine people who had rendered her many services and had treated her very well, and she demanded that we free the woman at once. When I told her that her spouse would free the captives only on condition of an exchange for herseW Mrs. Bulygin gave us an answer that struck us like a clap of thunder, an answer we could not believe for several minutes, taking it all for a dream. In horror, distress, and anger, we heard her say firmly that she was satisfied with her condition, did not want to join us, and that she advised us to surrender ourselves to this people. The toyon, she explained, was an upright and virtuous man, widely known along this coast. He honestly would free us and send us to the two European ships then cruising in the Strait of Juan de Fuca.’>6 >Concerning the three others captured with her, she said that Kotel’nikov had been taken by a people who lived at Cape Grenville, Yakov by the people on whose shores our ship had been wrecked, and Maria by the local people there at the mouth of the river.
To Bulygin, who loved his wife passionately, I did not know what to say concerning her answer and her intentions. In vain I attempted to persuade her to come to her senses and take pity on her unhappy spouse, to whom she was indebted for every thing. [But she would not change her mind.]
For a long time [after returning to our fort] I hesitated [to tel] Bulygin]. Yet nothing could be done. It was impossible to hide the truth. I had to disclose everything to our anguished commander, and let him be overwhelmed. He heard me out, but apparently did not believe me at first, assuming that I was joking. But, after reflecting a few moments, he suddenly fell into a frenzy, grabbed a gun, and ran towards the riverbank, intending to shoot his wife. After several steps, however, he stopped short and began to weep, then ordered me to go along to argue with her, and even to threaten that he would shoot her. I carried out the instructions of my commander, but without success. His wife had decided to stay with the savages. “I do not fear death,” she declared. “It is better for me to die than to wander about with you in the forest, where we might fall into the hands of a cruel and barbarous people. Now I am living with kind and humane people. Tell my husband that I scorn his threats.”Bulygin listened carefully to my report. For a long time he was silent, standing like a man who had lost his memory. At last he gave a sudden cry and fell to the ground as though dead. When he came to his senses we had laid him on a greatcoat, and he began to sob bitterly and said not a word to us.
Meanwhile, leaning back against a tree, I had time to think about the difficulty of our situation. Our commander, losing a wife who had betrayed his love and devotion and now despised him, did not understand himself what he was doing, and even wanted to die. Must we perish for that?
Following this reasoning, I posed a question to Bulygin and all our comrades: If Anna Petrovna, being a Russian, praises this people, then is it possible that she has been instructed by the savages and has agreed to deliver us into their hands? No! We must believe her. We must conclude that it would be better to entrust ourselves to them, to place ourselves voluntarily under their authority, than to wander about in the forest, continually >struggling with hunger and against the elements, fighting the savages, exhausting ourselves, only to end by falling prey to some wild beast or another.
Bulygin was silent but all the others rejected my argument and would not agree with me. Then I stated that I would no longer attempt to convince them, but that for myself I had decided to act as I had proposed and voluntarily give myself up to the savages. At that moment our commander declared his opinion: he agreed with me completely. Our comrades then asked permission to reconsider. In this manner our talk ended that day. The savages headed off toward the mouth of the river and we remained on the hill to spend the night.The next morning the savages again appeared at the former place and began anew to beg us to free our captives. At this point I announced to the toyon that five of our company—the navigator, Tarakanov, Ovchinnikov, and two Aleuts—considering his people honorable and virtuous, had decided to surrender to them, expecting that they would do us no harm and would allow us to depart for our homeland on the first ship to appear. The toyon assured us that we would not regret our decision, and he tried to persuade the others to follow our example. But they were obstinate and would not alter their course. The prisoners were released, and then our comrades bid us farewell, like brothers, with team. We joined the savages and went with them while our comrades remained at that place.
The next day we reached the settlement of Kunishat, where the man to whom I had been allotted, the toyon mentioned above, Yutramaki by name, made his home that winter. Bulygin was assigned to the same master, but by his own wish went to another, the one to whom his wife belonged. Ovchinnikov and the Aleuts also fell into “various hands,” as the saying goes.
As for our other comrades, on the same day we parted they determined to go to Destruction Island. But during the trip they hit a rock, their canoe was smashed, all their powder got wet, and they just barely escaped with their lives. Since they had lost their only means of defense, they wanted to overtake us and surrender themselves to the Kunishat people. But they did not know the route and so ran into another tribe while they >were crossing a river. These savages fell on them, took them into captivity, and later traded several to the Kunishats. The others they kept.
After we remained about a month at Kunishat, my master d cided to go to his own house, located on Cape Juan de Fuc Before setting out he bought back Bulygin, promising that I would soon buy back his wife also. She had already been fo given by her husband and they were living together. When we moved to the new residence, Bulygin and I live quietly with our master. He treated us kindly and supported u well until he fell into a quarrel with Bulygin”s former master. This man sent back [to Yutramaki, our master,] what he ha been paid for Nikolai Isaakovich, which consisted of one littli girl and two sazbens [fourteen feet] of cloth, and demande the return of his captive. But Yutramaki refused to comply. Fi nally Bulygin declared that for love of his wife he constantly desired to join her, and begged that he be traded to his former master. His wish was fuiIIlled. But after this the savages repeat edly passed us from hand to hand, sometimes by selling, some-times by exchanging us, or—because of kinship or friendship— gave us as gifts. Nikolai Isaakovich and his Anna Petrovna suffered the most bitter fate. At times they were together, at times separated, and they lived in continual fear that they would be parted forever. Death finally ended the misery of the unfortunate pair. Mrs. Bulygin passed away in August 1809, while living apart from her husband. When he learned of her death, he began even more to grieve, to pine away and, stricken with a case of the most severe consumption, gave up the ghost on February 14, 1810. When she died Mm. Bulygin was in the hands of such an abominable barbarian that he did not even permit her body to be buried, but ordered it thrown into the forest. Meanwhile I spent most of my time in captivity with my good master Yutraniaki, who treated me as a friend, not as a prisoner. I tried to merit his kindness by all possible means. These people are complete children; any trifle pleases them. By taking advantage of their simplicity, I was able to make them love and even honor me. For example, I constructed a kite out >of paper and, having made some string from animal tendons, launched it into the air. The kite, rising to its full height, amazed the savages. They attributed this invention to my genius and declared that the Russians could reach the sun. But nothing I did to serve my master outdid the “war rattle.” ‘ Happily, I was able to explain to him that the various tones of a rattle’s sound could be made to signal the various movements in war, and that it would be extremely valuable when attacking an enemy or when retreating from one. This instrument, the “war rattle,” put the finishing touch on my fame. Everyone was amazed at my intelligence and thought that few such geniuses could be left in Russia. In September [18091 we left Cape Juan de Fuca and moved farther up the strait of the same name to spend the winter. There I built a small dirt-covered hut for myself and lived alone. During the fall I was busy shooting birds, and that winter I made wooden dishes for my master and for sale. For this work 1 forged a drawing knife and a notcher from nails with stones. The savages observed my work and were astonished. The toyons in a general gathering declared that a person as skillflñ as I must certainly be a starsbina or toyon. After this I and my master were invited everywhere and entertained by all equally with their own starsbinas. They were most astonished that Bulygin could have been our commander. He could not shoot birds in the summer nor use an axe well. That winter the local natives suffered a great shortage of food, so great that they charged each other in trade a sea otter skin for ten dried salmon, and my master traded many sea otter skins for fish. Even so, several starsbinas faced real hunger. The promysblenniks Petukhov, Shubin, and Zuev fled to me because of their lack of food. My master fed them. Moreover, when their masters demanded that they be returned, he told them that they were living with me and that their return depended on me. The savages turned to me, and I let these men return to them only on the condition that they be fed and not abused. In March [1810] we moved on to a summer residence where I built another earth-covered lodge more spacious than the first one, and I fortified it with gun ports on the side which faced tl sea. The fame of this building spread far and wide, and sta sbinas came from great distances to look at it and wonder. At long last, merciful God heard our prayers and delivere us. On the 6th of May 118101, early in the morning, a double masted vessel came into view and soon approached the short My master, taking me with him, at once set out for the ship This brig was a ship from the United States called the Lydia_ under the command of Captain Brown. >On this ship, to m great surprise, I found my comrade Bolgusov and learned tha he had been resold to someone on the Columbia River, where he had been purchased by Captain Brown. The captain, having talked with me about our misfortunes, explained to my master a best he could that he should order all his countrymen to bring to the captain all captive Russians, whom the captain would buy back. My master departed and I remained on the brig. The next day the savages brought the Englishman, John? Williams, who had been with us previously, and for whom they _ first asked an outrageously high ransom. later they agreed to take five patterned blankets, five sazbens [about thirty-five feet] of woolen cloth, a locksmith’s tile, two steel knives, one mirror, five packets of gunpowder, and the same quantity of small shot.: Afterwards they accepted the same quantity of goods for all of us except Bolotov and Kurmachev, whom they brought to the ship twice and both times asked such an extraordinary price that the payment for each would have exceeded the amount for all the rest of us together. When the demanded price was not paid the savages took these unfortunate people away. They also declared that we would not see Shubin either, since he had been sold to a master who had departed for Destruction Island on a whale hunt. The stubbornness of the savages compelled Captain Brown to take other measures. He seized one of the starsbinas, the brother of the toyon who held Bolotov and Kurmachev in slavery, and told him that he would not be freed until the Russians were released. This action had the desired effect. That very day they brought Bolotov and Kurmachev to us. Then we began to demand Shubin, giving them twenty-four hours IIto produce him]. They brought him the following day, when we were at >sea about fifteen [nautical] miles from shore. Then Captain Brown freed the chief, after paying him for each of the released people the same amount as for the others [first released]. Thus Captain Brown bought thirteen of us: Timofei Tarakanov, Dmitrii Shubin, Ivan Bolotov, Ivan Kurmachev, Afanasii Valgusov, Kas’ian Zypianov, Savva Zuev, Abram Petukhov, John Williams, two Aleut men, and two Aleut women. During our captivity seven died: Navigator Bulygin and wife, Iakov Petukhov, Koz’ma Ovchinnikov, Khariton Sobachnikov, and two Aleuts. One, the young apprentice Fffip Kotel’nikov, was sold to a distant people and remained with them, and one (an Aleut) was purchased by the American captain of the ship Mercury, Captain [George Washington] Eayres, in 1809 on the Columbia River. On May 10th [1810] we set Out on our way and sailed along the coast, often stopping at various harbors to trade with the savages; and on June 9th we arrived safely at New Arkhangel. View the native Alaskan account here.