THE BEAR THAT DIED OF CURSES
The village folk of Spask were a good-natured lot, as most Russian
villagers are, and old Tatiana Danilovna was a popular character in
the community for many sufficient reasons. In the first place she was
a widow with several children, whom she did her best to support
without begging, which is in itself a great distinction for any
widow in a Russian village; and Tatiana, her special talents and
qualifications apart, had but her late husband's little allotment of
land, the portion of one soul (and oh, what a drunken soul was Yashka
Shagin, while still under bondage to the flesh!), wherewith to feed
the whole five of her brats. But then, as I have just hinted, Tatiana
had talents of her own, which enabled her to supplement the meagre
income producible from her bit of the communal land, which, but for
this fortunate provision of nature in her favour, would have been just
about enough to starve upon handsomely. The fact of the matter is, old
Tatiana was a _znaharka_. If the reader were to look out this word in
the dictionary he would probably find the English equivalent given as
"a sorceress"; but this is not exactly the meaning of the name, which
is derived from the root _zna_, and signifies rather "a woman who
knows her way about." This much old Tatiana certainly did know, as
well as most people, although I am sorry to say that her education
in the usual fields of even elementary learning had been entirely
overlooked. As _znaharka_ she did a considerable business, however, in
all of the following useful departments of that avocation. She gave
her blessing to couples about to be married; and bold indeed would
that couple have been who presumed to approach the hymeneal altar
without having previously insured themselves against the onslaughts of
the evil eye by undergoing the ceremony indicated. Besides this she
did a fairish bit of exorcising, for there were always plenty of evil
spirits knocking about near Spask, and the priest of the nearest
church could not always be got at very conveniently; besides her fee
was, naturally, lower than that of his reverence, who could not be
expected to come all that distance and bring a large _ikon_ with him
into the bargain, for nothing; also, the priest had to be refreshed,
while Tatiana was frugal to a fault in her habits, and was far
too wise a woman to go near the village beer-shop at any time for
drinking purposes. She would use the resort as a convenient place
for haranguing the assembled souls, indeed, and visited it also
occasionally in a benevolent way, to haul some boosing moujik out of
the den before he should have drunk his soul out of his body. Then,
again, Tatiana was the _sage femme_ of the district, and ushered into
the world every little squalling moujik that was unfortunate enough to
be born into this vale of tears and poverty. Lastly, for even the tale
of Tatiana's accomplishments must end somewhere, she was the medico of
the place. Tatiana did not attempt surgery, but she knew a number of
incantations and charms, which, of course, are the same thing without
the vivisection. Faith and Tatiana together effected many a cure in
Spask; and it is marvellous, when one thinks of it, how very simple a
matter will set right our suffering bodies if we only know how to "do
the trick." Tatiana knew how to do the trick, and had herbs and potent
decoctions which were able to remove every disease, unless, indeed, it
was God's will that the patient should die, in which case, of course,
neither Tatiana, nor Professor Virchow, nor any one else, would have
kept the poor creature alive. When Providence was willing that the
sick person should enjoy a further lease of life, then Tatiana and her
herbs and her occasional blood-letting were safe things to resort to,
as all Spask well knew, and were as sure as anything could be to pull
the patient through with flying colours. She also dealt in charms for
the use of lovers, mothers (or would-be mothers), hunters, farmers,
&c.; and could doctor horses and cows and dogs and poultry with
wonderful success, always, of course, under the saving clause as to
_force majeure_, in the way of interferences from Providence. I will
merely add that Tatiana was dear to all children, whom she regaled
with _prianniki_ (biscuits) after a good stroke of business, and that
the whole village feared as well as respected the old woman.
Such being Tatiana's position in the community, it is not surprising
that the entire population of Spask were ready and willing to lend a
hand whenever the word went round that the _znaharka_ was about
to mow her field of grass, or to dig up her potatoes, or whatever may
have been the particular nature of the work to be done upon her bit of
land. On the occasion which we have to consider to-day there was hay
to be made, and as Tatiana's allotment adjoined others upon which a
similar work had to be performed, nearly all the "souls," or
ratepayers, of the village were present and busy with their scythes,
while there was assuredly no single child in the place absent; all
were there, tossing Tatiana's hay about ("tedding" is the word, I
believe), and making themselves more or less useful and entirely happy
over the job. The field was a large one, for it comprised the whole of
the hay allotments of the souls of the community, about twenty-five in
all; hence Tatiana's strip, which was but one twenty-fifth of the
whole, was soon mown by so large a body of workers, who then passed on
to the next strip, and thence to a third and a fourth, until all was
mown. The field lay close up to the very edge of the pine forest,
Tatiana's strip being actually the nearest to the wood, so that, as
the work went on, the whole body of workers gradually drew further and
further from the cover, until towards evening the busy, noisy crowd
were at quite a considerable distance from the spot at the edge of the
forest where work had commenced in early morning. On such occasions as
mowing day at Spask there is no question of returning to the village
during working hours; for once in a way Ivan Ivanich sticks to
business, and meals, as well as any little refreshers of a liquid
nature, are partaken of upon the spot; hunks of black bread tied up in
red handkerchiefs, salted herrings in grimy bits of newspaper, and
_kvass_, in dirty-looking bottles, forming the principal items of
the food and drink brought by the moujiks to be consumed upon the
ground. _Kvass_ is a drink to which I should recommend every reader
to give a very wide berth, for it is without exception the nastiest
decoction that ever the perverted ingenuity of mankind invented, and
is calculated to nauseate the toughest British palate to such an
extent that the said Britisher will flee the country rather than taste
the noxious stuff a second time.
On this occasion there was quite an array of red handkerchiefs left at
the edge of the field, together with sundry loose hunks of black bread
and other comestibles, and half-a-dozen tiny children of a
non-perambulating age, which latter had been brought to the field by
their mothers for the excellent reason that there was no one left in
the village to look after them, and were now peacefully sleeping, like
so many little bundles of rags, each under the tree selected by its
parent for the office of shade-giver. Assuredly not one of the
red-shirted souls so busily wielding their scythes, or of the
gaily-kerchiefed women tossing and drying the grass, ever bethought
herself of the possibility of danger to the little ones thus left a
hundred or so of yards away: for who would hurt them? There were no
gipsies to carry them away, or brigands--they had never heard of such
gentry; it was perfectly safe, and nobody bothered his head about the
babies. Therefore it came as a terrible shock to every person present
when of a sudden some one raised the cry: "Medvyed, medvyed!" (a bear,
a bear!) There was no mistake about it, it was indeed a bear, and a
big one, too--"the tsar of the bears," as a moujik expressed it
afterwards. The brute was apparently busy searching among the red
handkerchiefs for something to eat, when first seen; but at the
general shout or howl of fear and surprise which immediately arose
from the whole body of peasants in the field, he raised his nose and
deliberately scanned the assembled villagers, showing his teeth and
growling unpleasantly.
The villagers were too frightened, at first, to either move or utter a
sound. The spectacle of a bear in their midst was too unusual in that
portion of Russia in which Spask lay to be other than intensely
horrifying. Spask did not even boast of an _ochotnik_, or hunter,
among its inhabitants; the population, one and all, were as ignorant
of the best course to pursue under the circumstances as though the
foul fiend himself had suddenly appeared among them, and their
tongues, as well as their arms, were absolutely paralysed with
amazement and terror.
Meanwhile the bear, seeing that none seemed anxious to dispute his
presence, turned his attention to the red bundles which contained the
food whose good smell had probably attracted him, visiting several of
these in turn and rolling them about in his attempts to get at their
contents. Then he visited a bundle which contained a baby. The child
was, fortunately, fast asleep; neither did it awake when Bruin rolled
it over to sniff at it; if it had moved the consequences might perhaps
have been fatal. But, as matters turned out, the child slept on, and
the bear, satisfied that it was dead, left it. Then at length the
spirit of the assembled population returned to them, and, as though
with one accord, the entire crowd gave vent to a shriek of relief and
rage; men began to finger their scythes and women their rakes, and the
whole assembly moved a step or two towards the intruder. Then Bruin
began to think that discretion was, perhaps, after all, the better
part of valour, and, with a few savage snarls and grunts, he retired
into the forest, stepping upon a sleeping baby as he withdrew, and
causing the child to wake and scream with pain or fright. Then he
disappeared among the dark pines, moaning and grunting so as to be
heard for a considerable distance.
The villagers lost no time in rushing to the assistance of the
screaming child, now that danger was over; when it was seen that the
baby was quite uninjured, and, further, that the child was a relative
and goddaughter of old Tatiana, whose bundle of black bread the bear
had also honoured with particular attention. These facts amounted, in
the minds of the good people of Spask, to a coincidence. Why had the
brute thus chosen out the _znaharka_ for special and deliberate
insult? Undoubtedly he was an evil spirit, and these acts of hostility
on his part directed against the chief local enemy of evil spirits
must be regarded as something in the nature of a challenge. Tatiana's
bread was all eaten or spoiled, and Tatiana's godchild still lay
screaming, though unhurt, in her mother's arms. There was more in this
than appeared on the surface.
All eyes were now upon the _znaharka_, for it was evident that
something must be said or done under the circumstances; the reputation
of the wise woman of the village was, in a way, at stake.
Tatiana did not disappoint her admirers. She first crossed herself,
and then spat; then she fixed her eyes upon the spot where the bear's
retreating form had last been seen, and commenced a speech, half a
formula of exorcisation and half pure (or rather very impure) abuse,
which certainly did the greatest credit both to her inventive
faculties and to her knowledge of the intricacies of the Russian
language as arranged specially for the use of vituperative peasants.
If one fractional portion of the old woman's curse had taken effect
upon its object, the rest of the days of that bear upon this earth
would indeed have been days of blighting and misery both for himself
and for those who called him son or cousin or husband; his female
relatives especially came under condemnation, and most of all she who
had brought him into the world; her fate was to be shocking indeed, so
much so that I shrink from entering into the matter in detail for fear
of wounding the feelings of my readers, who are not perhaps accustomed
to the beauties of the Russian peasant's vocabulary, which is
exceedingly rich in certain forms of speech. Tatiana's curse, however,
produced a great effect upon her fellow villagers, who felt that it
was all that the occasion demanded, and that they had for the present
obtained satisfaction for the insults heaped upon them by the
uninvited stranger; the baby was also, presumably, of this opinion,
for it now stopped crying, and began to look about it with eyes full
of the last few unshed tears, as though it expected to find the corpse
of the bear lying somewhere about as the immediate result of Tatiana's
heroics. After this, the souls, accompanied by their female relatives
and the children, returned to the village, where the rest of the
evening was spent by the majority of the gentlemen in the refinements
of _vodka_-drinking and wrangling at the beer-shop.
But, alas! shocking though the curse of Tatiana had sounded, and dire
as the results ought to have been in the way of utter confusion and
annihilation in this world and the next for that bear and all his
relations, it soon appeared that somehow or other the malediction had
missed its mark. The very next day the creature was seen by a villager
who chanced to penetrate somewhat deep into the forest in search of
mushrooms; and so far from being any the worse for the liberal cursing
it had had, the bear had appeared--so the moujik declared--to be all
the better, or rather fiercer for it; it had actually chased him for
some little distance, and would have caught him if he had not, most
providentially, reached a wide expanse of open ground which the bear
had hesitated to cross in daylight.
This was serious news, and Tatiana was observed that morning, after
hearing it, to grow very thoughtful; she made her hay diligently, but
silently, exchanging neither word nor salutation with man, woman, or
child during the whole of the day. The peasant women eyed the old
_znaharka_ with unquiet minds; was this evil spirit destined to prove
more mighty than she, and to defy with impunity the very clearly
expressed maledictions of their all-powerful _znaharka_? Surely not.
It would be a bad day for Spask if the confidence which the village
had so long reposed in the mystic powers of the sagacious Tatiana were
now to be shaken! This was the very reflection which was disturbing
the mind of the _znaharka_ herself, with the corollary that it would
be an uncommonly bad thing for her business also. Things however, went
from bad to worse. Far from feeling any ill effects from the curses of
Tatiana, these seemed to have inspired the offending animal with
greater courage and ferocity than had ever hitherto been the portion
of mortal bruin. He chased the villagers at every opportunity: he
entered the village at night and stole--alas! poor _znaharka_!--Tatiana's
own dog; he grew bolder day by day, and at last his daring culminated
in the pursuit and capture of a poor little child. The unfortunate
baby, for she was scarcely more, had strayed beyond the edge of the
wood while her people were busy in the hayfield, had been caught,
carried away, and eaten. This was the climax. Tatiana's reputation was
tottering. Already several sick persons had presumed to get well
without her assistance; another had done an even worse thing, he had
ridden over to the neighbouring _selo_, which means the chief of a
group of villages, in order to consult the local _feldscher_, an
insult to the medical genius of Tatiana which had never before been
offered to that lady--who, to do her justice, little as she knew about
medicine or human bodies and their ailments, nevertheless knew a great
deal more than her professional rival upon these subjects, for he was
as absolutely ignorant of one as he was of the other.
And now Tatiana began to feel her influence in the village, and
therefore her very livelihood, slipping away, not gradually, but, if I
may use the expression, with a run. If something did not happen to
re-establish her reputation, and that very soon, both position and
emoluments as wise-woman of the district would inevitably go by the
board! Folks began to eye her askance when they met her; some even
openly mocked at her as she passed, delighting to tell her each new
tale of the appearance of the demon bear, that thrived on curses; in a
word, the position became insupportable. The discredited wise-woman
now took to roaming the woods, armed with her sickle, in hopes of
meeting and, by some fortunate combination of circumstances in which
cursing and cunning and violence were all to play a part, compassing
the death of her arch-enemy, the ruiner of her position and prospects,
the hated, the accursed, the demoniac bear. Strangely enough, Tatiana
still believed in herself though the rest of the village had learned
to doubt her powers, and she was not without hope that a second curse,
if personally applied, might yet prove efficacious. All Tatiana's
wanderings in the forest seemed, however, to be doomed to end in
disappointment; the enemy would not show himself, and matters were
growing extremely critical when at last one afternoon the unexpected
happened. As the old woman was busily employed washing her children's
clothes in the river, on chancing to raise her head she espied for the
first time since the memorable evening of her first abortive cursing,
the very identical object of that curse and of very many others since
lavished upon him in the secret recesses of her being--Bruin himself.
The bear, unaware of her proximity, was standing at the edge of the
steepish bank which at that spot overhung the water, endeavouring to
reach the stream for a drink. Unsuccessful in his efforts to effect
this, the brute was softly whining and grunting, growing excited and
passionate the while, as baulked bears will, over his failure to get
at the water. Seeing that his whole attention was absorbed in the
interest of the moment, Tatiana, who, brave as she was, had at first
forgotten everything in the terror of this sudden _rencontre_ with the
savage brute, determined to seize the opportunity to escape. But when
she had crept a very few paces away, a thought struck her. She was
discredited and disgraced at the village; her reputation, which meant
her livelihood, had gone from her; what was life worth to her under
the circumstances? Why not make one bold stroke for reputation and
fortune, and succeed or perish in the attempt? Here was this bear
busily engaged in balancing himself over the surface of the swift
stream, endeavouring to get at the water which he could not possibly
reach, but, bear-like, persisting in the attempt; now, why not creep
quietly up, and--yes, she would do it! Tatiana stole softly behind her
enemy--it was a matter of life and death, she quite understood that,
so she was careful enough to make no sound--approached within a yard
or two of the monster's broad stern, then, as he bent himself further
than ever over the water, gave one loud shout and one big rush, and in
an instant had thrown the whole weight of her body against that of the
already almost overbalanced animal at the brink. The next moment
_znaharka_ and bear were both rising to the surface of the river Neva,
beneath whose cool waters they had plunged in company. Old Tatiana
could swim like a duck and soon struck out for the best landing place;
the bear, like a sensible creature, following her lead. But the old
woman, trained to swim in these waters from childhood, quickly
outstripped her companion, and was ready, with her sickle in her hand,
when that half-drowned individual arrived. The river was deep to the
very bank, so that Tatiana had no great difficulty in beating off her
enemy, who, placing two huge paws upon the edge of the bank, received
a cut from the sickle upon each, which soon compelled him to snatch
away those members with a roar of pain and rage.
Then commenced an unequal battle. The bear splashed about endeavouring
to gain a footing; but whenever he came to the bank, there was Tatiana
awaiting him with her deadly sickle, and in addition to many cuts over
paw and forearm the unfortunate brute had soon to bewail sundry gashes
over face and head, which first enraged and then stupefied him, the
old woman accompanying her blows with volleys of abuse and
imprecations which, I am convinced, must have made that bear feel
exceedingly ashamed of himself had he not had other matters to engage
his attention at the moment!
The result of all this was a foregone conclusion. The poor brute could
not land; his efforts to gain a foothold waxed feeble; his roars of
pain and rage grew weaker, thinned themselves into pitiful whines and
bubbling moans, and then died away altogether. His head went under
water, reappeared once and a second time, and sank again. He was
drowned.
Then the old _znaharka_ crossed herself, spat towards her defunct
enemy, and fainted.
An hour afterwards, as the Souls of Spask were engaged, _more suo_,
in wrangling over their midday _vodka_, at the beer-house, to them
entered the pale and dishevelled figure of the discredited wise-woman.
"Well, little mother," said one, "what are you asking for curses this
afternoon? I'm told they are a drug in the market!"
Rude laughter followed this sally.
"Curses have gone up since the morning," said the old woman. "I have
seen a vision----"
"If your visions are as nourishing as your maledictions," interrupted
a second moujik, "you'd better feed the demon bear with them. He may
thrive on them, and it will save our oats!"
"The bear is dead," said Tatiana "I have seen him in a vision. You
will find his body at the shallow rapids near Gouriefka. My curse has
fallen upon him. He will eat no more oats!"
With which solemn words Tatiana made an effective exit before her
hearers had decided what to make of them.
When the dripping body of that ill-used bear was brought in triumph to
the village and laid in the street in front of Tatiana's cottage, it
would be difficult to say which of two parties, all the members of
which talked at once, were the loudest--those who applauded and
extolled the marvellous triumph of the _znaharka_ over the powers
of darkness, or those who raised their voices in denunciation upon the
prostrate enemy of mankind. The two parties changed places continually,
those who cursed the bear taking a turn at extolling the woman of the
hour, and _vice versâ_. Suffice it to say that never was bear better
cursed, and never was praise more lavished upon human being. For
several years after this, if there was a wise woman in all Russia
whose blessings and cursings were esteemed absolutely effective in all
emergencies, and carried their own steady market value for miles
around Spask, that woman was Tatiana. Her cures were marvellous after
this, for so great was the faith reposed in her powers that she might
have saved her herbs and still the patients would have recovered. As
for the death of the bear, St. Sergius, on whose name-day the brute
perished, got the credit of that, after deduction had been made for
the glory fairly earned by Tatiana, but for whose maledictions the
good saint might never have been moved to interfere for the relief of
the Spask peasantry. Tatiana knew exactly how much St. Sergius had to
do with the killing of the bear; but, in her opinion, it paid her far
better to pose as the successful curser than as the intrepid hunter,
and no doubt she knew best about that, as about most things, being a
_znaharka_.
Moreover, the bear, whether he died of curses or of cold water,
provided an excellent fur to clothe Tatiana withal when winter frosts
came on, for the widow's ancient mantle had worn out with her
reputation.