I might, of course, extend the list of the botanical peculiarities of the steppe much farther, but, upon the whole, the variety of plants that grow upon this vast grazing land of the Tartars is more limited than would be supposed. Botanists, I believe, reckon only five hundred species as native to the steppe, and each species usually grows in large masses. For leagues together the traveller will see nothing but wormwood ; and, on leaving so bitter a specimen of vegetation, he will come to a tulip-bed, covering many thousands of acres ; and at the end of that, to an equal extent of wild mignioiiette, to which cultivation has not, however, imparted the delicious perfume which recommends it to the horticulturist of more civihzed lands. For days together, the droshky will tlien roll over the same description of coarse grass, ungainly to look upon, but on which the sheep thrive admirably, and which is said to give to Tartar mutton a delicious flavom that the travelled epicure vainly looks for in the gorgeous restaurants of Paris, or in that joint-stock association of comfort and luxurj'^, a London club.
A singular phenomenon of the steppe manifests itself when man presumptuously attempts to invade it with his plough. The disturbed soil immediately shoots forth every variety of burian, against which the farmer must exert unceasing vigilance, or else farewell to the hope of a productive harvest. If the same land is afterwards left fallow, the buria7i takes possession of the field, and riots for a few years in undisturbed luxuriance. A struggle then goes on for some years longer between the weeds and the grass ; but the latter, strange to say, in almost every instance, triumphs in the end, and a beautiiul pasture -ground succeeds, which goes on improving from year to year, till it attains its highest degree of perfection. A reaction then ensues. A species of coarse grass, known by botanists under the name of stipa pinnata, takes possession of the ground, which it covers with its hard and woody stems, till the farmer, taking advantage of the first dry weather in spring, clears away the whole plantation by setting fire to it.
The burning of the steppe is the only kind of manuring to which it i' ever subjected, and is generally executed in spiing, in order that a fresh crop of grass may immediately rise, like a young pha^nix, from the ashes.
This department of Tartar husbandry Is usually managed with much caution, and the couflai^ation rarely extends beyond the limits intended to be assigned to it ; but sometimes a fire lises by accident, or in consequence of a malicious act of incendiarism, and then the conflagration rages far and wide, sweeping along for hmidreds of leagues, destroying cattle and corn-fields, and consuming not only single houses, but whole villages in its way. These fires are particularly dangerous in summer, owing to the inflammable condition, at that season, of almost every description of herbage. The flaming torrent advances with irresistible force, towering up among the lofty thistles, or advancing with a stealthy snakelike step through the parched grass. Not even the wind can always arrest its destructive course, for a fire of this kind will go streaming in the very teeth of the wind, now slowly and then rapidly, according to the nature of the fuel that supplies its forces. At times the invader finds himself compressed between ravines, and appears to have spent his strength, but a few burning particles blown across by a gust of wind enable him to make good his position on new ground, and he loses no time in availing himself of the opportunity. A well-beaten road, a ravine, or a piece of sunk ground in which some remnant of moistiu'e has kept the grass green, are the points of Avhich advantage must be taken if the enemy's advance is to be stopped. At such places, accordingly, the shepherds and herdsmen post themselves. Trenches are hastily dug, the flying particles are carefully extinguished as they fall, and sometimes the attempt to stop the course of such a conflagration is attended with success. Often however the attempt fails, and the despairing husbandmen see one wheat-field after another in a blaze, their dwellings reduced to ashes, and the affrighted cattle scouring away over the plain before the advancing volumes of smoke.