The salmon fishery was very poor in 1866, and the inhabitants of the Ghijiga district were relying upon catching seals in the autumn.  At Kolymsk, on the Kolyma river, the authorities require every man to catch one-tenth more than enough for his own use.  This surplus is placed in a public storehouse and issued in case of famine.  It is the rule to keep a three years supply always at hand.  Several seasons of scarcity led to the adoption of the plan.

We were frequently visited by the natives from a Koriak village near the light-house.  Their dress was of deer skin, and comprised a kotlanka, or frock, pantaloons, and boots, or leggings.  Winter garments are of deer skin with its hair remaining, but summer clothing is of dressed skins alone.  These natives appear below the ordinary stature, and their legs seemed to me very small.  Ethnologists are divided concerning the origin of the Koriaks, some assigning them to the Mongol race and others to the Esquimaux.  The Koriaks express no opinion on the disputed point, and have none.

Both sexes dress alike, and wear ornaments of beads in their ears.  They have a curious custom of shaving the back part of the head, a la moine.  Fashion is as arbitrary among the Koriaks as in Paris or New York, and dictates the cut of garments and the style of hair dressing with unyielding severity.

Like savages everywhere, these natives manifest a fondness for civilized attire.  A party visited the Clara Bell and obtained some American clothing.  One man sported a cast-off suit, in which he appeared as uneasy as an organ grinder’s monkey in a new coat.  Another wore a sailor’s jacket from the Variag, and sported the number ‘19’ with manifest pride.  A third had a fatigue cap, bearing the letters ‘U.S.’ in heavy brass, the rest of his costume being thoroughly aboriginal.  One old fellow had converted an empty meat can into a hat without removing the printed label “stewed beef.”  I gave him a pair of dilapidated gloves, which he donned at once.

The Koriaks are of two kinds, wandering and settled.  The wanderers have great numbers of reindeer, and lead a migratory life in finding pasturage for their herds.  The settled Koriaks are those who have lost their deer and been forced to locate where they can subsist by fishing.  The former are kind and hospitable; the latter generally the reverse.  Poverty has made them selfish, as it has made many a white man.  All are honest to a degree unusual among savages.  When Major Abasa traveled among them in the winter of 1865, they sometimes refused compensation for their services, and were scrupulously careful to guard the property of their guests.  Once the Major purposely left some trivial articles.  The next day a native brought them forward, and was greatly astonished when pay was offered for his trouble.

“This is your property,” was the response; “we could not keep it in our tents, and it was our duty to bring it to you.”