A RUSSIAN peasant sat out in the field. The sun was shining fiercely. In
the distance the man saw something coming to him. It came nearer, and
then he saw it was a woman. She was clad in a large cloak, and strode
along with great strides. The man felt much afraid, and would have run
away, but the phantom held him with its bare arms.
“Do you know the Plague?” said she. “I am it. Take me on your shoulders
and carry me through all Russia. Miss no village or town, for I must go
everywhere. For yourself fear nothing. You shall live in the midst of
death.”
She wrapt her long arms round the neck of the fearful peasant. The man
went on, and was astonished to find that he felt no weight. He turned
his head, and saw that the Plague was on his back.
He first took her to a town, and when they came there, there was joy in
all the streets, dancing, music, and jollity. The peasant went on and
stood in the market-place, and the woman shook her cloak. Soon the
dance, joy, and merriment ceased. Wherever the man looked he saw terror.
People carried coffins, the bells tolled, the burial-ground was full;
there was at length no room for more to be buried in it.
Then the people brought the dead to the market-place and left them
there, having no place in which to bury them.
The wretched man went on. Whenever he came to a village the houses were
left deserted, and the peasants fled with white faces, and trembling
with fear. On the roads, in the woods, and out in the fields, could be
heard the groans of the dying.
Upon a high hill stood the man’s own village, the place in which he was
born, and to this place the Plague began to direct his steps. There were
the man’s wife, his children, and his old parents.
The man’s heart was bleeding! When he came near his own village, he laid
hold of the Plague so that she should not escape him, and held her with
all his might.
He looked before him and saw the blue Pruth flowing past, and beyond it
were the green hills, and afar off the dark mountains with snow-capped
tops.
He ran quickly to the stream and leaped under its waters, wishing to
destroy himself and his burden together, and so free his land from
sorrow and the Plague.
He himself was drowned, but the Plague, being as light as a feather,
slipped off his shoulders, and so escaped. She was, however, so alarmed
by this brave deed that she fled away and hid herself in the mountain
forests.
So the man saved his village, his parents, his wife, and his little
children, and all that part of fair Russia through which the Plague had
not passed.
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