exist, especially in the remoter villages such as I am describing. I found that each male head of a family is entitled to a share of the communal land which he cultivates himself, and the produce of which he is entitled to retain. He is, moreover, practically self-supporting, and his chief articles of food—bread, meat and cabbage—cost him nothing except his labour, for he produces them all himself. Winter is, of course, the hardest time for him, but he provides for this by keeping certain supplies of meat underground in ice, and by salting part of his cabbage produce, which he uses to make cabbage soup, an important article of diet among these people. Much of his clothing also costs him nothing. The sheepskin coat, felt boots, and rough flax clothes are made locally by the peasants themselves. Almost the only expenditure of the year, except that for tea, tobacco and sugar, is for Moscow cotton prints out of which the women's clothes are largely made. Direct taxation, of which I give figures elsewhere, is extremely low, except on tea, sugar and tobacco; and there is generally an ample margin with which the peasant can buy those few extra necessaries and even a few luxuries to brighten his home.
The economic condition of the Siberian peasant shows, in fact, in a striking way how comparatively prosperous peasant communities may become when they are surrounded by fertile land and are content to live simple lives.[1]
I had many surprises while I was in Siberia. Instead of convict prisons I had seen modern urban centres springing up amidst every sign of the growing spirit of Western commercialism. Instead of un-
- ↑ See also Chap. IX., p. 231.
