Basia assisted with beating heart at the departure of the troops, since this was to be her first expedition; and the heart rose in her at sight of those old wolves of the steppe. They went so quietly that in the fortalice itself it was possible not to hear them: the bridle-bits did not rattle; stirrup did not strike against stirrup, sabre against sabre; not a horse neighed. The night was calm and unusually bright. The full moon lighted clearly the heights of the stanitsa and the steppe, which was somewhat inclined toward every side; still, barely had a squadron left the stockade, barely had it glittered with silver sparks, which the moon marked on the sabres, when it had vanished from the eye like a flock of partridges into waves of grass. It seemed to Basia that they were sportsmen setting out on some hunt, which was to begin at daybreak, and were going therefore quietly and carefully, so as not to rouse the game too early. Hence great desire entered her heart to take part in that hunt.
Pan Michael did not oppose this, for Zagloba had inclined him to consent. He knew besides that it was necessary to gratify Basia’s wish sometime; he preferred therefore to do it at once, especially since the ravagers were not accustomed to bows and muskets. But they moved only three hours after the departure of the first squadrons, for Pan Michael had thus planned the whole affair. Pan Mushalski, with twenty of Linkhauz’s dragoons and a sergeant, went with them, — all Mazovians, choice men, behind whose sabres the charming wife of the commandant was as safe as in her husband’s room.
Basia herself, having to ride on a man’s saddle, was dressed accordingly; she wore pearl-colored velvet trousers, very wide, looking like a petticoat, and thrust into yellow morocco boots; a gray overcoat lined with white Crimean sheep-skin and embroidered ornamentally at the seams; she carried a silver cartridge-box, of excellent work, a light Turkish sabre on a silk pendant, and pistols in her holsters. Her head was covered with a cap, having a crown of Venetian velvet, adorned with a heron-feather, and bound with a rim of lynx-skin; from under the cap looked forth a bright rosy face, almost childlike, and two eyes curious and gleaming like coals.
Thus equipped, and sitting on a chestnut pony, swift and gentle as a deer, she seemed a hetman’s child, who, under guard of old warriors, was going to take the first lesson. They were astonished too at her figure. Pan Zagloba and Pan Mushalski nudged each other with their elbows, each kissing his hand from time to time, in sign of unusual homage for Basia; both of them, together with Pan Michael, allayed her fear as to their late departure.
“You do not know war,” said the little knight, “and therefore reproach us with wishing to take you to the place when the battle is over. Some squadrons go directly; others must make a detour, so as to cut off the roads, and then they will join the others in silence, taking the enemy in a trap. We shall be there in time, and without us nothing will begin, for every hour is reckoned.”
“But if the enemy takes alarm and escapes between the squadrons?”
“He is cunning and watchful, but such a war is no novelty to us.”
“Trust in Michael,” cried Zagloba; “for there is not a man of more practice than he. Their evil fate sent those bullock-drivers hither.”
“In Lubni I was a youth,” said Pan Michael; “and even then they committed such duties to me. Now, wishing to show you this spectacle, I have disposed everything with still greater care. The squadrons will appear before the enemy together, will shout together, and gallop against the robbers together, as if some one had cracked a whip.”
“I! I!” piped Basia, with delight; and standing in the stirrups, she caught the little knight by the neck. “But may I gallop, too? What, Michael, what?” asked she, with sparkling eyes.
“Into the throng I will not let you go, for in the throng an accident is easy, not to mention this, — that your horse might stumble; but I have ordered to give rein to our horses immediately the band driven against us is scattered, and then you may cut down two or three men, and attack always on the left side, for in that way it will be awkward for the fugitive to strike across his horse at you, while you will have him under your hand.”
“Ho! ho! never fear. You said yourself that I work with the sabre far better than Uncle Makovetski; let no one give me advice!”
“Remember to hold the bridle firmly,” put in Zagloba. “They have their methods; and it may be that when you are chasing, the fugitive will turn his horse suddenly and stop, then before you can pass, he may strike you. A veteran never lets his horse out too much, but reins him in as he wishes.”
“And never raise your sabre too high, lest you be exposed to a thrust,” said Pan Mushalski.
“I shall be near her to guard against accident,” said the little knight. “You see, in battle the whole difficulty is in this, that you must think of all things at once, — of your horse, of the enemy, of your bridle, the sabre, the blow, and the thrust, all at one time. For him who is trained this comes of itself; but at first even renowned fencers are frequently awkward, and any common fellow, if in practice, will unhorse a new man more skilled than himself. Therefore I will be at your side.”
“But do not rescue me, and give command to the men that no one is to rescue me without need.”
“Well, well! we shall see yet what your courage will be when it comes to a trial,” answered the little knight, laughing.
“Or if you will not seize one of us by the skirts,” finished Zagloba.
“We shall see!” said Basia, with indignation.
Thus conversing, they entered a place covered here and there with thicket. The hour was not far from daybreak, but it had become darker, for the moon had gone down. A light fog had begun to rise from the ground and conceal distant objects. In that light fog and gloom, the indistinct thickets at a distance took the forms of living creatures in the excited imagination of Basia. More than once it seemed to her that she saw men and horses clearly.
“Michael, what is that?” asked she, whispering, and pointing with her finger.
“Nothing; bushes.”
“I thought it was horsemen. Shall we be there soon?”
“The affair will begin in something like an hour and a half.”
“Ha!”
“Are you afraid?”
“No; but my heart beats with great desire. I, fear! Nothing and nothing! See, what hoar-frost lies there! It is visible in the dark.”
In fact, they were riding along a strip of country on which the long dry stems of steppe-grass were covered with hoarfrost. Pan Michael looked and said, —
“Motovidlo has passed this way. He must be hidden not more than a couple of miles distant. It is dawning already!”
In fact, day was breaking. The gloom was decreasing. The sky and earth were becoming gray; the air was growing pale; the tops of the trees and the bushes were becoming covered, as it were, with silver. The farther clumps began to disclose themselves, as if some one were raising a curtain from before them one after another. Meanwhile from the next clump a horseman came out suddenly.
“From Pan Motovidlo?” asked Volodyovski, when the Cossack stopped right before them.
“Yes, your grace.”
“What is to be heard?”
“They crossed Sirotski Brod, turned toward the bellowing of the bullocks, and went in the direction of Kalusik. They took the cattle, and are at Yurgove Polye.”
“And where is Pan Motovidlo?”
“He has stopped near the hill, and Pan Mellehovich neat Kalusik. Where the other squadrons are I know not.”
“Well,” said Volodyovski, “I know. Hurry to Pan Motovidlo and carry the command to close in, and dispose men singly as far as halfway from Pan Mellehovich. Hurry!”
The Cossack bent in the saddle and shot forward, so that the flanks of his horse quivered at once, and soon he was out of sight. They rode on still more quietly, still more cautiously. Meanwhile it had become clear day. The haze which had risen from the earth about dawn fell away altogether, and on the eastern side of the sky appeared a long streak, bright and rosy, the rosiness and ligh
t of which began to color the air on high land, the edges of distant ravines, and the hill-tops. Then there came to the ears of the horsemen a mingled croaking from the direction of the Dniester; and high in the air before them appeared, flying eastward, an immense flock of ravens. Single birds separated every moment from the others, and instead of flying forward directly began to describe circles, as kites and falcons do when seeking for prey. Pan Zagloba raised his sabre, pointing the tip of it to the ravens, and said to Basia, —
“Admire the sense of these birds. Only let it come to a battle in any place, straightway they will fly in from every side, as if some one had shaken them from a bag. But let the same army march alone, or go out to meet friends, the birds will not come; thus are these creatures able to divine the intentions of men, though no one assists them. The wisdom of nostrils is not sufficient in this case, and so we have reason to wonder.”
Meanwhile the birds, croaking louder and louder, approached considerably; therefore Pan Mushalski turned to the little knight and said, striking his palm on the bow, “Pan Commandant, will it be forbidden to bring down one, to please the lady? It will make no noise.”
“Bring down even two,” said Volodyovski, seeing how the old soldier had the weakness of showing the certainty of his arrows.
Thereupon the incomparable bowman, reaching behind his shoulder, took out a feathered arrow, put it on the string, and raising the bow and his head, waited.
The flock was drawing nearer and nearer. All reined in their horses and looked with curiosity toward the sky. All at once the plaintive wheeze of the string was heard, like the twitter of a sparrow; and the arrow, rushing forth, vanished near the flock. For a while it might be thought that Mushalski had missed, but, behold, a bird reeled head downward, and was dropping straight toward the ground over their heads, then tumbling continually, approached nearer and nearer; at last it began to fall with outspread wings, like a leaf opposing the air. Soon it fell a few steps in front of Basia’s pony. The arrow had gone through the raven, so that the point was gleaming above the bird’s back.
“As a lucky omen,” said Mushalski, bowing to Basia, “I will have an eye from a distance on the lady commandress and my great benefactress; and if there is a sudden emergency, God grant me again to send out a fortunate arrow. Though it may buzz near by, I assure you that it will not wound.”
“I should not like to be the Tartar under your aim,” answered Basia.
Further conversation was interrupted by Volodyovski, who said, pointing to a considerable eminence some furlongs away, “We will halt there.”
After these words they moved forward at a trot. Halfway up, the little knight commanded them to lessen their pace, and at last, not far from the top, he held in his horse.
“We will not go to the very top,” said he, “for on such a bright morning the eye might catch us from a distance; but dismounting, we will approach the summit, so that a few heads may look over.”
When he had said this, he sprang from his horse, and after him Basia, Pan Mushalski, and a number of others. The dragoons remained below the summit, holding their horses; but the others pushed on to where the height descended in wall form, almost perpendicularly, to the valley. At the foot of this wall, which was a number of tens of yards in height, grew a somewhat dense, narrow strip of brushwood, and farther on extended a low level steppe; of this they were able to take in an enormous expanse with their eyes from the height. This plain, cut through by a small stream running in the direction of Kalusik, was covered with clumps of thicket in the same way that it was near the cliff. In the thickest clumps slender columns of smoke were rising to the sky.
“Yon see,” said Pan Michael to Basia, “that the enemy is hidden there.”
“I see smoke, but I see neither men nor horses,” said Basia, with a beating heart.
“No; for they are concealed by the thickets, though a trained eye can see them. Look there: two, three, four, a whole group of horses are to be seen, — one pied, another all white, and from here one seems blue.”
“Shall we go to them soon?”
“They will be driven to us; but we have time enough, for to that thicket it is a mile and a quarter.”
“Where are our men?”
“Do you see the edge of the wood yonder? The chamberlain’s squadron must be touching that edge just now. Mellehovich will come out of the other side in a moment. The accompanying squadron will attack the robbers from that cliff. Seeing people, they will move toward us, for here it is possible to go to the river under the slope; but on the other side there is a ravine, terribly steep, through which no one can go.”
“Then they are in a trap?”
“As you see.”
“For God’s sake! I am barely able to stand still!” cried Basia; but after a while she inquired, “Michael, if they were wise, what would they do?”
“They would rush, as if into smoke, at the men of the chamberlain’s squadron and go over their bellies. Then they would be free. But they will not do that, for, first, they do not like to rush into the eyes of regular cavalry; secondly, they will be afraid that more troops are waiting in the forest; therefore they will rush to us.”
“Bah! But we cannot resist them; we have only twenty men.”
“But Motovidlo?”
“True! Ha! but where is he?”
Pan Michael, instead of an answer, cried suddenly, imitating a hawk. Straightway numerous calls answered him from the foot of the cliff. These were Motovidlo’s Cossacks, who were secreted so well in the thicket that Basia, though standing right above their heads, had not seen them at all. She looked for a while with astonishment, now downward, now at the little knight; suddenly her eyes flashed with fire, and she seized her husband by the neck.
“Michael, you are the first leader on earth.”
“I have a little training, that is all,” answered Volodyovski, smiling. “But do not pat me here with delight, and remember that a good soldier must be calm.”
But the warning was useless; Basia was as if in a fever. She wished to sit straightway on her horse and ride down from the height to join Motovidlo’s detachment; but Volodyovski delayed, for he wished her to see the beginning clearly. Meanwhile the morning sun had risen over the steppe and covered with a cold, pale yellow light the whole plain. The nearer clumps of trees were brightening cheerfully; the more distant and less distinct became more distinct; the hoar-frost, lying in the low places in spots, was disappearing every moment; the air had grown quite transparent, and the glance could extend to a distance almost without limit.
“The chamberlain’s squadron is coming out of the grove,” said Volodyovski; “I see men and horses.”
In fact, horses began to emerge from the edge of the wood, and seemed black in a long line on the meadow, which was thickly covered with hoar-frost near the wood. The white space between them and the wood began to widen gradually. It was evident that they were not hurrying too much, wishing to give time to the other squadrons. Pan Michael turned then to the left side.
“Mellehovich is here too,” said he. And after a while he said again, “And the men of the under-stolnik of Premysl are coming. No one is behind time two ‘Our Fathers.’ Not a foot should escape! Now to horse!”
They turned quickly to the dragoons, and springing into the saddles rode down along the flank of the height to the thicket below, where they found themselves among Motovidlo’s Cossacks. Then they moved in a mass to the edge of the thicket, and halted, looking forward.
It was evident that the enemy had seen the squadron of the chamberlain, for at that moment crowds of horsemen rushed out of the grove growing in the middle of the plain, as deer rush when some one has roused them. Every moment more of them came out. Forming a line, they moved at first over the steppe by the edge of the grove; the horsemen bent to the backs of the horses, so that from a distance it might be supposed that that was merely a herd moving of itself along the grove. Clearly, they were not certain yet whether the squadron was moving agai
nst them, or even saw them, or whether it was a detachment examining the neighborhood. In the last event they might hope that the grove would hide them from the eyes of the on-coming party.
From the place where Pan Michael stood, at the head of Motovidlo’s men, the uncertain and hesitating movements of the chambul could be seen perfectly, and were just like the movements of wild beasts sniffing danger. When they had ridden half the width of the grove, they began to go at a light gallop. When the first ranks reached the open plain, they held in their beasts suddenly, and then the whole party did the same. They saw approaching from that side Mellehovich’s detachment. Then they described a half-circle in the direction opposite the grove, and before their eyes appeared the whole Premysl squadron, moving at a trot.
Now it was clear to the robbers that all the squadrons knew of their presence and were marching against them. Wild cries were heard in the midst of the party, and disorder began. The squadrons, shouting also, advanced on a gallop, so that the plain was thundering from the tramp of their horses. Seeing this, the robber chambul extended in the form of a bench in the twinkle of an eye, and chased with what breath was in the breasts of their horses toward the elevation near which the little knight stood with Motovidlo and his men. The space between them began to decrease with astonishing rapidity.
Basia grew somewhat pale from emotion at first, and her heart thumped more powerfully in her breast; but knowing that people were looking at her, and not noticing the least alarm on any face, she controlled herself quickly. Then the crowd, approaching like a whirlwind, occupied all her attention. She tightened the rein, grasped her sabre more firmly, and the blood again flowed with great impulse from her heart to her face.
“Good!” said the little knight.
She looked only at him; her nostrils quivered, and she whispered, “Shall we move soon?”
“There is time yet,” answered Pan Michael.
But the others are chasing on, like a gray wolf who feels dogs behind him. Now not more than half a furlong divides them from the thicket; the outstretched heads of the horses are to be seen, with ears lying down, and over them Tartar faces, as if grown to the mane. They are nearer and nearer. Basia hears the snorting of the horses; and they, with bared teeth and staring eyes, show that they are going at such speed that their breath is stopping. Volodyovski gives a sign, and the Cossack muskets, standing hedge-like, incline toward the onrushing robbers.
Complete Works of Henryk Sienkiewicz Page 267