now converted
into fertile plains of grain and pasture, this innovation being entirely
due to the "Skoptsi," a religious sect exiled from European Russia, who,
by dint of thrift and industry, have raised a flourishing colony on the
outskirts of the city.[23] Cultivation was formerly deemed impossible in
this inclement region, but now the Skopt exile amasses wealth while the
Russian emigrant gazes disconsolately at the former's rich fields and
sleek cattle, and wonders how it is all done. For the Skoptsi are
up-to-date farmers, employing modern American machinery, which they
import into the country _via_ Vladivostok. And their efforts have been
amply repaid, for in 1902 the sale of corn and barley, formerly unknown
here, realised the sum of over a million roubles. Thirty years ago this
district contained but few herds of cattle, and now nearly two million
roubles' worth of frozen meat is annually exported to the various
settlements up and down the river. The inhabitants of Yakutsk are also
indebted to these industrious exiles for the fact that their markets are
now provided with vegetables of most kinds, although only the potato
was procurable some years ago. Now cabbages, beetroot, carrots,
radishes, cucumbers, and lettuce are to be had in season at a reasonable
price, to say nothing of delicious water-melons in August, but I could
not find that any other kind of garden-fruit was grown here, although
wild berries are both numerous and delicious.

[Footnote 22: The explorer Dobell wrote: "In the autumn of 1813 I found
that agriculture had advanced no further than Olekma (Olekminsk), 600
versts above Yakutsk."]

[Footnote 23: The Skoptsi faith, the practice of which is strictly
forbidden in Russia, entails a life of absolute chastity. This sect can
only acquire new members by election, since both sexes so mutilate their
persons that they can neither beget nor bear children.]

The Skoptsi exiles, who number about six hundred, inhabit a village
called Markha about seven versts from Yakutsk. Every man and woman in
the place (there are of course no children) is a Skopt. We visited
Markha one bright morning, driving out with the Governor, his staff and
several other officials in about a dozen sleighs in all. Breakfast had
been prepared for us at the house of the wealthiest Skopt in the
village, and we did justice to it with appetites sharpened by the drive
through the keen frosty air. There was a breeze and the cold was
pi