Chapter XXIX
It was August. For days the sky had been cloudless, the sun scorchedunbearably and from early morning the warm wind raised a whirl of hotsand from the sand-drifts and from the road, and bore it in the airthrough the reeds, the trees, and the village. The grass and the leaveson the trees were covered with dust, the roads and dried-up saltmarshes were baked so hard that they rang when trodden on. The waterhad long since subsided in the Terek and rapidly vanished and dried upin the ditches. The slimy banks of the pond near the village weretrodden bare by the cattle and all day long you could hear thesplashing of water and the shouting of girls and boys bathing. Thesand-drifts and the reeds were already drying up in the steppes, andthe cattle, lowing, ran into the fields in the day-time. The boarsmigrated into the distant reed-beds and to the hills beyond the Terek.Mosquitoes and gnats swarmed in thick clouds over the low lands andvillages. The snow-peaks were hidden in grey mist. The air was rarefiedand smoky. It was said that abreks had crossed the now shallow riverand were prowling on this side of it. Every night the sun set in aglowing red blaze. It was the busiest time of the year. The villagersall swarmed in the melon-fields and the vineyards. The vineyardsthickly overgrown with twining verdure lay in cool, deep shade.Everywhere between the broad translucent leaves, ripe, heavy, blackclusters peeped out. Along the dusty road from the vineyards thecreaking carts moved slowly, heaped up with black grapes. Clusters ofthem, crushed by the wheels, lay in the dirt. Boys and girls in smocksstained with grape-juice, with grapes in their hands and mouths, ranafter their mothers. On the road you continually came across tatteredlabourers with baskets of grapes on their powerful shoulders; Cossackmaidens, veiled with kerchiefs to their eyes, drove bullocks harnessedto carts laden high with grapes. Soldiers who happened to meet thesecarts asked for grapes, and the maidens, clambering up without stoppingtheir carts, would take an armful of grapes and drop them into theskirts of the soldiers' coats. In some homesteads they had alreadybegun pressing the grapes; and the smell of the emptied skins filledthe air. One saw the blood-red troughs in the pent-houses in the yardsand Nogay labourers with their trousers rolled up and their legsstained with the juice. Grunting pigs gorged themselves with the emptyskins and rolled about in them. The flat roofs of the outhouses wereall spread over with the dark amber clusters drying in the sun. Dawsand magpies crowded round the roofs, picking the seeds and flutteringfrom one place to another.
The fruits of the year's labour were being merrily gathered in, andthis year the fruit was unusually fine and plentiful.
In the shady green vineyards amid a sea of vines, laughter, songs,merriment, and the voices of women were to be heard on all sides, andglimpses of their bright-coloured garments could be seen.
Just at noon Maryanka was sitting in their vineyard in the shade of apeach-tree, getting out the family dinner from under an unharnessedcart. Opposite her, on a spread-out horse-cloth, sat the cornet (whohad returned from the school) washing his hands by pouring water onthem from a little jug. Her little brother, who had just come straightout of the pond, stood wiping his face with his wide sleeves, and gazedanxiously at his sister and his mother and breathed deeply, awaitinghis dinner. The old mother, with her sleeves rolled up over her strongsunburnt arms, was arranging grapes, dried fish, and clotted cream on alittle low, circular Tartar table. The cornet wiped his hands, took offhis cap, crossed himself, and moved nearer to the table. The boy seizedthe jug and eagerly began to drink. The mother and daughter crossedtheir legs under them and sat down by the table. Even in the shade itwas intolerably hot. The air above the vineyard smelt unpleasant: thestrong warm wind passing amid the branches brought no coolness, butonly monotonously bent the tops of the pear, peach, and mulberry treeswith which the vineyard was sprinkled. The cornet, having crossedhimself once more, took a little jug of chikhir that stoodbehind him covered with a vine-leaf, and having had a drink from themouth of the jug passed it to the old woman. He had nothing on overhis shirt, which was unfastened at the neck and showed his shaggymuscular chest. His fine-featured cunning face looked cheerful; neitherin his attitude nor in his words was his usual wiliness to be seen; hewas cheerful and natural.
'Shall we finish the bit beyond the shed to-night?' he asked, wipinghis wet beard.
'We'll manage it,' replied his wife, 'if only the weather does nothinder us. The Demkins have not half finished yet,' she added. 'OnlyUstenka is at work there, wearing herself out.'
'What can you expect of them?' said the old man proudly.
'Here, have a drink, Maryanka dear!' said the old woman, passing thejug to the girl. 'God willing we'll have enough to pay for thewedding feast,' she added.
'That's not yet awhile,' said the cornet with a slight frown.
The girl hung her head.
'Why shouldn't we mention it?' said the old woman. 'The affair issettled, and the time is drawing near too.'
'Don't make plans beforehand,' said the cornet. 'Now we have theharvest to get in.'
'Have you seen Lukashka's new horse?' asked the old woman. 'Thatwhich Dmitri Andreich Olenin gave him is gone -- he's exchanged it.'
'No, I have not; but I spoke with the servant to-day,' said the cornet,'and he said his master has again received a thousand rubles.'
'Rolling in riches, in short,' said the old woman.
The whole family felt cheerful and contented.
The work was progressing successfully. The grapes were more abundantand finer than they had expected.
After dinner Maryanka threw some grass to the oxen, folded herbeshmet for a pillow, and lay down under the wagon on the juicydown-trodden grass. She had on only a red kerchief over her head and afaded blue print smock, yet
she felt unbearably hot. Her face was burning, and she did not knowwhere to put her feet, her eyes were moist with sleepiness andweariness, her lips parted involuntarily, and her chest heaved heavilyand deeply.
The busy time of year had begun a fortnight ago and the continuousheavy labour had filled the girl's life. At dawn she jumped up, washedher face with cold water, wrapped herself in a shawl, and ran outbarefoot to see to the cattle. Then she hurriedly put on her shoes andher beshmet and, taking a small bundle of bread, she harnessed thebullocks and drove away to the vineyards for the whole day. There shecut the grapes and carried the baskets with only an hour's interval forrest, and in the evening she returned to the village, bright and nottired, dragging the bullocks by a rope or driving them with a longstick. After attending to the cattle, she took some sunflower seeds inthe wide sleeve of her smock and went to the corner of the street tocrack them and have some fun with the other girls. But as soon as itwas dusk she returned home, and after having supper with her parentsand her brother in the dark outhouse, she went into the hut, healthyand free from care, and climbed onto the oven, where half drowsing shelistened to their lodger's conversation. As soon as he went away shewould throw herself down on her bed and sleep soundly and quietly tillmorning. And so it went on day after day. She had not seen Lukashkasince the day of their betrothal, but calmly awaited the wedding. Shehad got used to their lodger and felt his intent looks with pleasure.
The Cossacks: A Tale of 1852 Page 29