Chapter XV
'Well, what was I saying?' he continued, trying to remember. 'Yes,that's the sort of man I am. I am a hunter. There is no hunter to equalme in the whole army. I will find and show you any animal and any bird,and what and where. I know it all! I have dogs, and two guns, and nets,and a screen and a hawk. I have everything, thank the Lord! If you arenot bragging but are a real sportsman, I'll show you everything. Do youknow what a man I am? When I have found a track--I know the animal. Iknow where he will lie down and where he'll drink or wallow. I makemyself a perch and sit there all night watching. What's the good ofstaying at home? One only gets into mischief, gets drunk. And herewomen come and chatter, and boys shout at me--enough to drive one mad.It's a different matter when you go out at nightfall, choose yourself aplace, press down the reeds and sit there and stay waiting, like ajolly fellow. One knows everything that goes on in the woods. One looksup at the sky: the stars move, you look at them and find out from themhow the time goes. One looks round--the wood is rustling; one goes onwaiting, now there comes a crackling--a boar comes to rub himself; onelistens to hear the young eaglets screech and then the cocks give voicein the village, or the geese. When you hear the geese you know it isnot yet midnight. And I know all about it! Or when a gun is firedsomewhere far away, thoughts come to me. One thinks, who is thatfiring? Is it another Cossack like myself who has been watching forsome animal? And has he killed it? Or only wounded it so that now thepoor thing goes through the reeds smearing them with its blood all fornothing? I don't like that! Oh, how I dislike it! Why injure a beast?You fool, you fool! Or one thinks, "Maybe an abrek has killed somesilly little Cossack." All this passes through one's mind. And once asI sat watching by the river I saw a cradle floating down. It was soundexcept for one corner which was broken off. Thoughts did come thattime! I thought some of your soldiers, the devils, must have got into aTartar village and seized the Chechen women, and one of the devils haskilled the little one: taken it by its legs, and hit its head against awall. Don't they do such things? Ah! Men have no souls! And thoughtscame to me that filled me with pity. I thought: they've thrown away thecradle and driven the wife out, and her brave has taken his gun andcome across to our side to rob us. One watches and thinks. And when onehears a litter breaking through the thicket, something begins to knockinside one. Dear one, come this way! "They'll scent me," one thinks;and one sits and does not stir while one's heart goes dun! dun! dun!and simply lifts you. Once this spring a fine litter came near me, Isaw something black. "In the name of the Father and of the Son," and Iwas just about to fire when she grunts to her pigs: "Danger, children,"she says, "there's a man here," and off they all ran, breaking throughthe bushes. And she had been so close I could almost have bitten her.'
'How could a sow tell her brood that a man was there?' asked Olenin.
'What do you think? You think the beast's a fool? No, he is wiser thana man though you do call him a pig! He knows everything. Take this forinstance. A man will pass along your track and not notice it; but a pigas soon as it gets onto your track turns and runs at once: that showsthere is wisdom in him, since he scents your smell and you don't. Andthere is this to be said too: you wish to kill it and it wishes to goabout the woods alive. You have one law and it has another. It is apig, but it is no worse than you--it too is God's creature. Ah, dear!Man is foolish, foolish, foolish!' The old man repeated this severaltimes and then, letting his head drop, he sat thinking.
Olenin also became thoughtful, and descending from the porch with hishands behind his back began pacing up and down the yard.
Eroshka, rousing himself, raised his head and began gazing intently atthe moths circling round the flickering flame of the candle and burningthemselves in it.
'Fool, fool!' he said. 'Where are you flying to? Fool, fool!' He roseand with his thick fingers began to drive away the moths.
'You'll burn, little fool! Fly this way, there's plenty of room.' Hespoke tenderly, trying to catch them delicately by their wings with histhick fingers and then letting them fly again. 'You are killingyourself and I am sorry for you!'
He sat a long time chattering and sipping out of the bottle. Oleninpaced up and down the yard. Suddenly he was struck by the sound ofwhispering outside the gate. Involuntarily holding his breath, he hearda woman's laughter, a man's voice, and the sound of a kiss.Intentionally rustling the grass under his feet he crossed to theopposite side of the yard, but after a while the wattle fence creaked.A Cossack in a dark Circassian coat and a white sheepskin cap passedalong the other side of the fence (it was Luke), and a tall woman witha white kerchief on her head went past Olenin. 'You and I have nothingto do with one another' was what Maryanka's firm step gave him tounderstand. He followed her with his eyes to the porch of the hut, andhe even saw her through the window take off her kerchief and sit down.And suddenly a feeling of lonely depression and some vague longings andhopes, and envy of someone or other, overcame the young man's soul.
The last lights had been put out in the huts. The last sounds had diedaway in the village. The wattle fences and the cattle gleaming white inthe yards, the roofs of the houses and the stately poplars, all seemedto be sleeping the labourers' healthy peaceful sleep. Only theincessant ringing voices of frogs from the damp distance reached theyoung man. In the east the stars were growing fewer and fewer andseemed to be melting in the increasing light, but overhead they weredenser and deeper than before. The old man was dozing with his head onhis hand. A cock crowed in the yard opposite, but Olenin still paced upand down thinking of something. The sound of a song sung by severalvoices reached him and he stepped up to the fence and listened. Thevoices of several young Cossacks carolled a merry song, and one voicewas distinguishable among them all by its firm strength.
'Do you know who is singing there?' said the old man, rousing himself.'It is the Brave, Lukashka. He has killed a Chechen and now herejoices. And what is there to rejoice at? ... The fool, the fool!'
'And have you ever killed people?' asked Olenin.
'You devil!' shouted the old man. 'What are you asking? One must nottalk so. It is a serious thing to destroy a human being ... Ah, a veryserious thing! Good-bye, my dear fellow. I've eaten my fill and amdrunk,' he said rising. 'Shall I come to-morrow to go shooting?'
'Yes, come!'
'Mind, get up early; if you oversleep you will be fined!'
'Never fear, I'll be up before you,' answered Olenin.
The old man left. The song ceased, but one could hear footsteps andmerry talk. A little later the singing broke out again but fartheraway, and Eroshka's loud voice chimed in with the other. 'What people,what a life!' thought Olenin with a sigh as he returned alone to hishut.
The Cossacks: A Tale of 1852 Page 15