The museum contains several dead specimens of the bearcoot, or eagle of the Altai.  I saw a living bird of this species at the house of an acquaintance.  The bearcoot is larger than the American eagle, and possesses strength enough to kill a deer or wolf with perfect ease.  Dr. Duhmberg, superintendent of the hospitals, told me of an experiment with poison upon one of these birds.  He began by giving half a grain of curavar, a poison from South America.  It had no perceptible effect, the appetite and conduct of the bird being unchanged.  A week later he gave four grains of strychnine, and saw the bird’s feathers tremble fifteen minutes after the poison was swallowed.  Five hours later the patient was in convulsions, but his head was not affected, and he recovered strength and appetite on the next day.  A week later the bearcoot swallowed seven grains of curavar, and showed no change for two days.  On the second evening he went into convulsions, and died during the night.

The Kirghese tame these eagles and employ them in hunting.  A gentleman who had traveled among the Kirghese told me he had seen a bearcoot swoop down upon a full grown deer and kill him in a few minutes.  Sometimes when a pack of wolves has killed and begun eating a deer, the feast will be interrupted by a pair of bearcoots.  Two birds will attack a dozen wolves, and either kill or drive them away.

Barnaool is quite near the Kirghese steppes.  One of my acquaintances had a Kirghese coachman, a tall, well formed man, with thick lips and a coppery complexion.  I established a friendship with this fellow, and arranged that he should sit for his portrait, but somehow he was never ready.  He brought me two of his kindred, and I endeavored to persuade the group to be photographed.  There was a superstition among them that it would be detrimental to their post mortem repose if they allowed their likenesses on this earth when they themselves should leave it.  I offered them one, two, three, and even five roubles, but they stubbornly refused.  Their complexions were dark, and their whole physiognomy revealed the Tartar blood.  They wore the Russian winter dress, but had their own costume for state occasions.  In this part of Siberia Kirghese are frequently found in Russian employ, and are said to be generally faithful and industrious.  A considerable number find employment at the Altai mines, and a great many are engaged in taking cattle and sheep to the Siberian markets.

The Kirghese lead a nomadic life, making frequent change of residence to find pasturage for their immense flocks and herds.  The different tribes are more or less hostile to each other, and have a pleasant habit of organizing raids on a colossal scale.  One tribe will suddenly swoop down upon another and steal all portable property within reach.  They do not mind a little fighting, and an enterprise of this kind frequently results in a good many broken heads.  The chiefs believe themselves descended from the great warriors of the ancient Tartar days, and boast loudly of their prowess.  The Kirghese are brave in fighting each other, but have a respectful fear of the Russians.  Occasionally they plunder Russian traders crossing the steppes, but are careful not to attack unless the odds are on their own side.