Chapter XVI
Daddy Eroshka was a superannuated and solitary Cossack: twenty yearsago his wife had gone over to the Orthodox Church and run away from himand married a Russian sergeant-major, and he had no children. He wasnot bragging when he spoke of himself as having been the boldestdare-devil in the village when he was young. Everybody in the regimentknew of his old-time prowess. The death of more than one Russian, aswell as Chechen, lay on his conscience. He used to go plundering in themountains, and robbed the Russians too; and he had twice been inprison. The greater part of his life was spent in the forests, hunting.There he lived for days on a crust of bread and drank nothing butwater. But on the other hand, when he was in the village he made merryfrom morning to night. After leaving Olenin he slept for a couple ofhours and awoke before it was light. He lay on his bed thinking of theman he had become acquainted with the evening before. Olenin's'simplicity' (simplicity in the sense of not grudging him a drink)pleased him very much, and so did Olenin himself. He wondered why theRussians were all 'simple' and so rich, and why they were educated, andyet knew nothing. He pondered on these questions and also consideredwhat he might get out of Olenin.
Daddy Eroshka's hut was of a good size and not old, but the absence ofa woman was very noticeable in it. Contrary to the usual cleanliness ofthe Cossacks, the whole of this hut was filthy and exceedingly untidy.A blood-stained coat had been thrown on the table, half a dough-cakelay beside a plucked and mangled crow with which to feed the hawk.Sandals of raw hide, a gun, a dagger, a little bag, wet clothes, andsundry rags lay scattered on the benches. In a corner stood a tub withstinking water, in which another pair of sandals were being steeped,and near by was a gun and a hunting-screen. On the floor a net had beenthrown down and several dead pheasants lay there, while a hen tied byits leg was walking about near the table pecking among the dirt. In theunheated oven stood a broken pot with some kind of milky liquid. On thetop of the oven a falcon was screeching and trying to break the cord bywhich it was tied, and a moulting hawk sat quietly on the edge of theoven, looking askance at the hen and occasionally bowing its head toright and left. Daddy Eroshka himself, in his shirt, lay on his back ona short bed rigged up between the wall and the oven, with his stronglegs raised and his feet on the oven. He was picking with his thickfingers at the scratches left on his hands by the hawk, which he wasaccustomed to carry without wearing gloves. The whole room, especiallynear the old man, was filled with that strong but not unpleasantmixture of smells that he always carried about with him.
'Uyde-ma, Daddy?' (Is Daddy in?) came through the window in a sharpvoice, which he at once recognized as Lukashka's.
'Uyde, Uyde, Uyde. I am in!' shouted the old man. 'Come in, neighbourMark, Luke Mark. Come to see Daddy? On your way to the cordon?'
At the sound of his master's shout the hawk flapped his wings andpulled at his cord.
The old man was fond of Lukashka, who was the only man he excepted fromhis general contempt for the younger generation of Cossacks. Besidesthat, Lukashka and his mother, as near neighbours, often gave the oldman wine, clotted cream, and other home produce which Eroshka did notpossess. Daddy Eroshka, who all his life had allowed himself to getcarried away, always explained his infatuations from a practical pointof view. 'Well, why not?' he used to say to himself. 'I'll give themsome fresh meat, or a bird, and they won't forget Daddy: they'llsometimes bring a cake or a piece of pie.'
'Good morning. Mark! I am glad to see you,' shouted the old mancheerfully, and quickly putting down his bare feet he jumped off hisbed and walked a step or two along the creaking floor, looked down athis out-turned toes, and suddenly, amused by the appearance of hisfeet, smiled, stamped with his bare heel on the ground, stamped again,and then performed a funny dance-step. 'That's clever, eh?' he asked,his small eyes glistening. Lukashka smiled faintly. 'Going back to thecordon?' asked the old man.
'I have brought the chikhir I promised you when we were at the cordon.'
'May Christ save you!' said the old man, and he took up the extremelywide trousers that were lying on the floor, and his beshmet, put themon, fastened a strap round his waist, poured some water from anearthenware pot over his hands, wiped them on the old trousers,smoothed his beard with a bit of comb, and stopped in front ofLukashka. 'Ready,' he said.
Lukashka fetched a cup, wiped it and filled it with wine, and thenhanded it to the old man.
'Your health! To the Father and the Son!' said the old man, acceptingthe wine with solemnity. 'May you have what you desire, may you alwaysbe a hero, and obtain a cross.'
Lukashka also drank a little after repeating a prayer, and then put thewine on the table. The old man rose and brought out some dried fishwhich he laid on the threshold, where he beat it with a stick to makeit tender; then, having put it with his horny hands on a blue plate(his only one), he placed it on the table.
'I have all I want. I have victuals, thank God!' he said proudly.'Well, and what of Mosev?' he added.
Lukashka, evidently wishing to know the old man's opinion, told him howthe officer had taken the gun from him.
'Never mind the gun,' said the old man. 'If you don't give the gun youwill get no reward.'
'But they say. Daddy, it's little reward a fellow gets when he is notyet a mounted Cossack; and the gun is a fine one, a Crimean, wortheighty rubles.'
'Eh, let it go! I had a dispute like that with an officer, he wanted myhorse. "Give it me and you'll be made a cornet," says he. I wouldn't,and I got nothing!'
'Yes, Daddy, but you see I have to buy a horse; and they say you can'tget one the other side of the river under fifty rubles, and mother hasnot yet sold our wine.'
'Eh, we didn't bother,' said the old man; 'when Daddy Eroshka was yourage he already stole herds of horses from the Nogay folk and drove themacross the Terek. Sometimes we'd give a fine horse for a quart of vodkaor a cloak.'
'Why so cheap?' asked Lukashka.
'You're a fool, a fool, Mark,' said the old man contemptuously. 'Why,that's what one steals for, so as not to be stingy! As for you, Isuppose you haven't so much as seen how one drives off a herd ofhorses? Why don't you speak?'
'What's one to say. Daddy?' replied Lukashka. 'It seems we are not thesame sort of men as you were.'
'You're a fool. Mark, a fool! "Not the same sort of men!"' retorted theold man, mimicking the Cossack lad. 'I was not that sort of Cossack atyour age.'
'How's that?' asked Lukashka.
The old man shook his head contemptuously.
'Daddy Eroshka was simple; he did not grudge anything! That's why I waskunak with all Chechnya. A kunak would come to visit me and I'd makehim drunk with vodka and make him happy and put him to sleep with me,and when I went to see him I'd take him a present--a dagger! That's theway it is done, and not as you do nowadays: the only amusement ladshave now is to crack seeds and spit out the shells!' the old manfinished contemptuously, imitating the present-day Cossacks crackingseeds and spitting out the shells.
'Yes, I know,' said Lukashka; 'that's so!'
'If you wish to be a fellow of the right sort, be a brave and not apeasant! Because even a peasant can buy a horse--pay the money and takethe horse.'
They were silent for a while.
'Well, of course it's dull both in the village and the cordon, Daddy:but there's nowhere one can go for a bit of sport. All our fellows areso timid. Take Nazarka. The other day when we went to the Tartarvillage, Girey Khan asked us to come to Nogay to take some horses, butno one went, and how was I to go alone?'
'And what of Daddy? Do you think I am quite dried up? ... No, I'm notdried up. Let me have a horse and I'll be off to Nogay at once.'
'What's the good of talking nonsense!' said Luke. 'You'd better tell mewhat to do about Girey Khan. He says, "Only bring horses to the Terek,and then even if you bring a whole stud I'll find a place for them."You see he's also a shaven-headed Tartar--how's one to believe him?'
'You may trust Girey Khan, all his kin were good people. His father toowas a faithful kunak.
But listen to Daddy and I won't teach you wrong:make him take an oath, then it will be all right. And if you go withhim, have your pistol ready all the same, especially when it comes todividing up the horses. I was nearly killed that way once by a Chechen.I wanted ten rubles from him for a horse. Trusting is all right, butdon't go to sleep without a gun.' Lukashka listened attentively to theold man.
'I say. Daddy, have you any stone-break grass?' he asked after a pause.
'No, I haven't any, but I'll teach you how to get it. You're a good ladand won't forget the old man.... Shall I tell you?'
'Tell me, Daddy.'
'You know a tortoise? She's a devil, the tortoise is!'
'Of course I know!'
'Find her nest and fence it round so that she can't get in. Well,she'll come, go round it, and then will go off to find the stone-breakgrass and will bring some along and destroy the fence. Anyhow nextmorning come in good time, and where the fence is broken there you'llfind the stone-break grass lying. Take it wherever you like. No lockand no bar will be able to stop you.'
'Have you tried it yourself. Daddy?'
'As for trying, I have not tried it, but I was told of it by goodpeople. I used only one charm: that was to repeat the Pilgrim rhymewhen mounting my horse; and no one ever killed me!'
'What is the Pilgrim rhyme. Daddy?'
'What, don't you know it? Oh, what people! You're right to ask Daddy.Well, listen, and repeat after me:
'Hail! Ye, living in Sion, This is your King, Our steeds we shall siton, Sophonius is weeping. Zacharias is speaking, Father Pilgrim,Mankind ever loving.'
'Kind ever loving,' the old man repeated. 'Do you know it now? Try it.'
Lukashka laughed.
'Come, Daddy, was it that that hindered their killing you? Maybe itjust happened so!'
'You've grown too clever! You learn it all, and say it. It will do youno harm. Well, suppose you have sung "Pilgrim", it's all right,' andthe old man himself began laughing. 'But just one thing, Luke, don'tyou go to Nogay!'
'Why?'
'Times have changed. You are not the same men. You've become rubbishyCossacks! And see how many Russians have come down on us! You'd get toprison. Really, give it up! Just as if you could! Now Girchik and I, weused...'
And the old man was about to begin one of his endless tales, butLukashka glanced at the window and interrupted him.
'It is quite light. Daddy. It's time to be off. Look us up some day.'
'May Christ save you! I'll go to the officer; I promised to take himout shooting. He seems a good fellow.'
The Cossacks: A Tale of 1852 Page 16