Beasts of the sea, p.7
Beasts of the Sea, page 7
He wishes to visit the delta of the Kolyma River, because there are rumours that explorers there have unearthed the bones of the great northern elephant. He once saw a tusk found in Siberia at the Academy. The older professors believe that it must have come from the body of the Behemoth described in the Book of Job, a creature whose tail is like a cedar, its bones like pipes of brass, yes, this must surely be the first of the ways of God.
Their discovery is not the only evidence of this beast. In Sicily, a group of villagers stumble upon the head of Polyphemus the Cyclops, an enormous skull with a giant hole in the middle of its forehead where once the monster’s one and only eye had been, and at Gray’s Inn Lane in London workmen strike their spades into the ground and dig up a puzzling, rough-edged tooth.
The tooth is bought by a naturalist by the name of Hans Sloane. His world-famous collections contain 71,000 artefacts, and it is from these that both the British Museum and London’s Natural History Museum are born. Sloane is fascinated by these wondrous discoveries and in time acquires more parts of this unknown creature for his collections. As he examines them, he gradually realises that the monstrous skull did not belong to a cyclops but to an enormous elephant: the great hole in the front of the head is not an eye socket but the point at which a nimble, fleshy trunk protruded, though this explanation is no less strange than if the Sicilians had indeed discovered the earthly remains of Poseidon’s son.
The bones of this curious elephant present naturalists with an unprecedented conundrum. Namely, the bones are in altogether the wrong places, smoggy London and the cold steppes of Siberia, though the present-day elephant prefers warmer climes. However, of these bones there can be no doubt whatsoever: this is a species of elephant unknown to science, one that can withstand the harsh Arctic conditions. It soon transpires that in Siberia the locals are very familiar with the bones of the giant northern elephant. The Mansi call this creature mā ān’t, the earth horn, and in the mouths of the Russians this developed into the form mamant, mammoth. The peoples living along the banks of the Yenisey River do not believe that the bones are bones at all but that they sprout from the earth like plants or mushrooms, whereas the Mansi know that the creature to which these bones once belonged lives deep within the earth, far beneath the human world, burrowing its way through the peat and soil and never coming to the surface. How else can we explain that far away on the steppes lives a giant animal that no-one wandering the plains has ever seen?
Every now and then, curiosity gets the better of these subterranean elephants, and they plough their way up to the surface. They yearn to sniff the fresh air and see the sun, but their curiosity is their undoing. Their slow, cold bodies cannot withstand the light and the warmth. Not one mammoth ever sees the tundra grasses swaying in the wind, for they die beneath the earth as they strive towards the surface that remains just out of reach, and on occasion the spade of a lucky peasant reveals the bones of an elephant that perished just below the surface. Spring is the best time to find these remains, when meltwaters swell the rivers until they breach their tall embankments. Then the earth may give up the frozen bones of the mammoth, and in one embankment a local merchant even uncovers an entire skeleton. It has been so well preserved that, as it thaws out, the animal starts to ooze blood, and the merchant cuts off the animal’s tongue and front leg and takes them with him. He claims that the giant northern elephant was covered in thick reddish fur, but researchers meet this suggestion with scepticism, and the merchant has no proof to back up his claim. His treasure cannot withstand the world above the surface: after coming into contact with the light and the warmth, the mamant rots and decomposes.
Siberian folklore has an ethnographic value of its own, but Steller dismisses the idea that an elephant could live underground; only worms live in the earth. However, an elephant might be able to dig a tunnel, to burrow its way into the embankment and make a den, but what would it live on deep inside the earth? No, the elephant is a creature living on the earth’s surface, out on the savannahs; there are no herds of subterranean elephants wandering around in tunnels the size of a cathedral. Furthermore, the bones found in different locations across the northern hemisphere prove that the Arctic elephant wandered far and wide across these open plains.
Perhaps Noah forgot about this animal, neglecting to take it on his ark, and its fate was to drown in the waters that covered the earth, or perhaps God undid His own creation and allowed the animal to fade into history, but Steller remains unconvinced by other naturalists’ explanations. He cannot believe that God would change His mind and break asunder an order that was supposed to be eternal. The animal world is a perfect, unbroken chain, from an arthropod hiding in the mud by the shore to the crown of all Creation; it is a stable, carefully designed system, and the thought that one of these creatures could simply disappear is unthinkable and godless. Steller knows that the Arctic elephant must still be out there somewhere. Is not his sea cow irrefutable proof that, if one travels far enough, there are still new, unknown beasts waiting to be discovered? That the world remains boundless and open?
On the journey home through Siberia, Steller plans to complete his account of the island and to search for the giant northern elephant. He asks the Cossack to accompany him, but Toma Lepekhin is keen to return to the Bolshaya River, where his wife and child await him. Upon hearing this, Steller is taken aback. He finds it hard to imagine Lepekhin having a past, a time in which their expedition plays no part, but he swallows this disappointment, and the two embrace. And with that, the Cossack is gone. Steller gees his dogs into motion and tries not to think about the ravens.
However, Steller’s journey begins slowly for he has run out of money. He must remain where he is and wait for his unpaid wages, so he decides to spend the winter in Kamchatka and settles in the village of Bolsheretsk to organise his notes. While residing there, he becomes embroiled in a curious piece of theatre. The natives have been getting rowdy and many have been imprisoned for treason and resisting Russian officials. But this leaves the officials with a problem: they cannot investigate cases in which they themselves are involved. Luckily for them, Steller, a young adjunct from the Academy of Sciences in St Petersburg, arrives in the village, and the task of interrogating and convicting the Itelmens falls to him.
Steller accepts this duty and interviews the prisoners. He notes that they are honest and good men, and he can feel his blood boiling. If the indigenous people were treated with sense and common decency, the empire would be able to carry out its business in Siberia without shedding a single drop of blood, but the officials’ behaviour leaves the natives with no option but to raise up a rebellion. He acquits the Itelmens of all charges.
Steller’s wages finally arrive, and he rides off leaving the infuriated officials behind him. He does not find any mammoths, but he does however identify a new tree and a new fish, he puts together a considerable collection of plants and loads his sled with all manner of seeds and saplings which he intends to plant in the soft soils of the botanical garden at the Academy. He spends the following winter in Solikamsk, where one Major Grigorii Demidov, the owner of a salt mine, lives in a manor house surrounded by verdant gardens, a veritable oasis in the middle of Siberia. Lemon trees and palms flourish in the confines of his greenhouses. The garden is Demidov’s pride and joy, and he is only too happy to welcome the naturalist to his home, especially as Steller undertakes to train his gardeners. He is given permission to plant his saplings on Demidov’s land over the winter, and though this too is a delay, it is one that Steller is prepared to endure. After months on his sled, life at the manor house does not feel like a punishment.
However, the Russian officials have not forgetten the affront he caused them, and a military envoy appears in Solikamsk bringing terrible news: the naturalist Georg Wilhelm Steller is to be charged. An informant sent word all the way to St Petersburg that Steller was an enemy of the Tzar slovo i delo, in word and deed, a traitor of the worst kind, and he is to present himself to the court in Irkutsk without delay.
What a baseless, shameless lie! The informant is anonymous, but Steller does not need a name to find an object for his rage – to hell with these Siberian officials! What madness, to retreat three thousand kilometres back through Siberia to the east! He will need at least two weeks just to prepare for the journey. First he must catalogue all his plants and bird skins, then write to St Petersburg, to the Senate and the Academy, send word that nobody must dig up his plants without his consent. Steller is so furious he bursts into tears. He sobs and curses, leaving the messenger at a loss, not knowing what to do, where to look, as the naturalist pours out his anger: he could have remained in the beautiful cities of Europe, risen to the role of professor and lived a comfortable life, he could have fallen in love, brought children into the world, but he has sacrificed the best years of his life to science. He has tolerated hunger, cold and poverty, risked his life, time and time again, and in return gets nothing but scorn and condescension, charges of treason – a man who has dedicated his life to the Academy! Why do they seek to frustrate his work time after time? He beholds the chaos in his office, the tables and boxes piled high with samples whose names and origins are recorded only in his head. But the messenger has had advance warning of the prisoner’s querulous character, and they set off that same evening. Steller is allowed to take his coat and the pages of his manuscript, which he hastily gathers up.
They travel quickly and uncomfortably, stopping only to eat and sleep. At first Steller thought he might be able to make good use of the time, but the humiliation of imprisonment gnaws at his mind. The days pass, his notebook rests in his lap, and he stares out at the passing landscape with unseeing eyes.
In October, they arrive at Tara. Steller travelled through this town eight months ago, and he begins to weep. Why has he been forced back to this ugly place inhabited only by illiterate Tatars and incompetent officials? But it is in Tara that the court awaits him. A postal wagon comes bearing news: Lieutenant Waxell had learned of the charges against Steller, testified to his good character, and now all the charges have been dropped. Upon hearing this, Steller drops to his knees. He clasps his hands together and thanks the Lord and the lieutenant, and rather than staying to tempt fate, he leaves the town that same evening. He must get to St Petersburg, correct these misunderstandings and clear his name, he must deliver his report before another researcher reaches his island. So many lost days, weeks and months – he cannot afford to waste another moment.
He arrives at Tobolsk, and the town’s archbishop hosts a banquet in honour of his release. Sophisticated guests are a rarity in Siberia, and the archbishop enjoys conversation with this erudite man who is almost as well read as he. They talk about God and the medicinal qualities of herbs, they raise their glasses, but Steller is restless. He longs to return to his samples, the fossils, skins and seeds still waiting to be put in order, the plants abandoned in the frozen soil, but the archbishop is in no hurry to let his guest go. He hosts Steller for a full three weeks, but by then the naturalist’s patience has run out. He packs his belongings and orders his horses to be prepared for the journey, but on the morning he is due to set off he awakes to shivers. A fever ravages his body, sweat breaks out upon his brow and soaks his clothes. The archbishop prays, begs him to stay, but Steller shakes his head. What is a small fever compared to the hardships he experienced on his uninhabited island? He will not hear any argument to the contrary and instead climbs into his sled, his legs trembling.
He travels for three days and nights without stopping. On the morning of the fourth day, he is found freezing on the side of a road leading to Tyumen, his horses worn out with exhaustion.
The town’s physician is summoned to the inn. Lying on the gurney in front of him, he finds a febrile, emaciated man calling him strange names and speaking a mixture of Latin, German and Russian. The physician places a cloth on the man’s forehead and gives him tea steeped from herbs, but the fever will not drop, and Steller’s breath begins to rasp. The physician sends someone to fetch a priest, and a moment before he slips into darkness, Steller smiles. He is sitting by the campfire, the Cossack at his side. They raise mugs of the sea cow’s blubber and crack them together.
Steller is buried on the banks of the Tura River that same evening. At night, however, the layer of soil shovelled upon him is brushed away and the shroud wrapped around his body stolen. The thieves did not bother to cover the grave again, and in the summer, dogs can be seen running around the meadows with ribs and shinbones in their jaws.
The physician goes through the belongings that the naturalist left behind. Among them he finds a tightly bound parcel, and inside it pages of notes written in a feverish hand. He does the deceased one last favour and sends these papers to St Petersburg.
News of Steller’s death reaches the Academy of Sciences, and the event is noted in the minutes of the academic council as follows:
The Council has learned that Adjunct Steller departed this life during his return journey from Irkutsk Province, in the city of Tyumen, on the twelfth day of November.
They neglect to inform his wife.
List of Steller’s Surviving Manuscripts:
Incomplete list of minerals
List of minerals found near Irkutsk
A history of minerals
Beasts of the Sea: A Detailed Description of the Sea Cow and Other Inhabitants of Bering Island
Description of certain winter animals
Incomplete description of certain animals
Incomplete study of land and sea animals
Study of birds’ nests and eggs
Various observations regarding the description of birds
Observations regarding birds’ nests and eggs
Descriptions of various birds
A study of fish
General observations regarding the reproduction of fish
Incomplete study of certain fish
Description of the Arctic cisco
Incomplete study of certain bird species
Incomplete study of spiders and other insects
Study of insects
Glossaries of several languages
A study of the Koryak peoples
Description of Kamchatka
Amendments to the history of the inhabitants of Kamchatka
Description of the hunting of various animals
List of insects
and
Second Kamchatka Expedition
undertaken upon His Imperial Majesty’s Command
or
Description of the Voyage of the late Captain Commander Bering
for
The Exploration of Lands North-east of Kamchatka
and of
The Island on which we chanced to land
and on which we wintered in 1742,
what happened to us,
and
the plants, animals, and minerals found there
By
Georg Wilhelm Steller
Adjunct in Natural History of the St Petersburg
Academy of Sciences
1743
All that is left of Steller are his papers and his plants.
The great Linnaeus himself acquires the saplings that Steller left in Siberia, and it is in his garden that they now blossom.
II
Yet, if we wield the sword of extermination as we advance, we have no reason to repine at the havoc committed […] We have only to reflect, that in thus obtaining possession of the earth by conquest, and defending our acquisitions by force, we exercise no exclusive prerogative. Every species which has spread itself from a small point over a wide area must, in like manner, have marked its progress by the diminution or the entire extirpation of some other, and must maintain its ground by a successful struggle against the encroachments of other plants and animals. […] The most insignificant and diminutive species, whether in the animal or vegetable kingdom, have each slaughtered their thousands, as they disseminated themselves over the globe, as well as the lion, when first it spread itself over the tropical regions of Africa.
Sir Charles Lyell, Principles of Geology, 1833
And in every corner of the earth where civilisation has forced its way, the champagne began to flow.
Uno Cygnaeus, in a letter from Sitka, 1840
57°03’11”N, 135°19’51”W
SOUTH-EAST COAST OF ALASKA
1859
Alexander von Nordmann, professor of zoology at the Imperial Alexander University in Finland, raises his glass, and the conversation begins to flow. Speaking Swedish feels homely after all that Russian, French and English, and the professor is delighted with the visit, which is, of course, long overdue. After all, he is a state councillor and an esteemed researcher who has discovered hitherto unseen parasites in the jaws of a bream and presented the new, wondrous science of palaeontology to Finnish academia. And now he has spent four long and uncomfortable months in the northernmost corner of the Americas, so it is only right and proper that the Governor of Alaska should honour him with his presence.
To his relief, von Nordmann sees that Governor Furuhjelm is a progressive man, eager to develop the colony’s zoological collections, and the governor promises to send him the second edition of Lamarck’s natural history of invertebrates, containing a section dealing with parasites of the gut. They enjoy dinner together, von Nordmann regales the governor with the fascinating life cycle of the sea snail Tergipes edwardsii, and time flies by, but when it is time to move to the cognac, Furuhjelm stands up from his chair and makes his apologies: as the professor will surely appreciate, the ins and outs of the shipping company give him no rest.
