The enemy, in fact, had posted two cannon on the spot where the Tatars
had been scattered, and every twenty or thirty minutes sent a shot at
our wood-choppers. My division was sent out into the field, and ordered
to reply to him. At the skirt of the forest a puff of smoke would show
itself, the report would be heard, then the whiz of the ball, and the
shot would bury itself behind us or in front of us. The enemy's shots
were placed fortunately for us, and no loss was sustained.
The artillerists, as always, behaved admirably, loaded rapidly, aimed
carefully wherever the smoke appeared, and jested unconcernedly with
each other. The infantry escort, in silent inactivity, were lying
around us, awaiting their turn. The wood-cutters were busy at their
work; their axes resounded through the forest more and more rapidly,
more and more eagerly, save when the _svist_ of a cannon-shot was
heard, then suddenly the sounds ceased, and amid the deathlike
stillness a voice, not altogether calm, would exclaim, "Stand aside,
boys!" and all eyes would be fastened upon the shot ricocheting upon
the wood-piles and the brush.
The fog was now completely lifted, and, taking the form of clouds, was
disappearing slowly in the dark-blue vault of heaven. The unclouded orb
of the sun shone bright, and threw its cheerful rays on the steel of
the bayonets, the brass of the cannon, on the thawing ground, and the
glittering points of the icicles. The atmosphere was brisk with the
morning frost and the warmth of the spring sun. Thousands of different
shades and tints mingled in the dry leaves of the forest; and on the
hard, shining level of the road could be seen the regular tracks of
wheel-tires and horse-shoes.
The action between the armies grew more and more violent and more
striking. In all directions the bluish puffs of smoke from the firing
became more and more frequent. The dragoons, with bannerets waving from
their lances, kept riding to the front. In the infantry companies songs
resounded, and the train loaded with wood began to form itself as the
rearguard. The general rode up to our division, and ordered us to be
ready for the return. The enemy got into the bushes over against our
left flank, and began to pour a heavy musketry-fire into us. From the
left-hand side a ball came whizzing from the forest, and buried itself
in a gun-carriage; then--a second, a third.... The infantry guard,
scattered around us, jumped up with a shout, seized their muskets, and
took aim. The cracking of the musketry was redoubled, and the bullets
began to fly thicker and faster. The retreat had begun, and the present
attack was the result, as is always the case in the Caucasus.
It became perfectly manifest that the artillerists did not like the
bullets as well as the infantry had liked the solid shot. Antónof put
on a deep frown. Chikin imitated the sound of the bullets, and fired
his jokes at them; but it was evident that he did not like them. In
regard to one he said, "What a hurry it's in!" another he called a
"honey-bee;" a third, which flew over us with a sort of slow and
lugubrious drone, he called an "orphan,"--a term which raised general
amusement.
The recruit, who had the habit of bending his head to one side, and
stretching out his neck, every time he heard a bullet, was also a
source of amusement to the soldiers, who said, "Who is it? some
acquaintance that you are bowing to?" And Velenchúk, who always showed
perfect equanimity in time of danger, was now in an alarming state of
mind; he was manifestly vexed because we did not send some canister in
the direction from which the bullets came. He more than once exclaimed
in a discontented tone, "What is _he_ allowed to shoot at us with
impunity for? If we could only answer with some grape, that would
silence him, take my word for it."
In fact, it was time to do this. I ordered the last shell to be fired,
and to load with grape.
"Grape!" shouted Antónof bravely in the midst of the smoke, coming up
to the gun with his sponge as soon as the discharge was made.
At this moment, not far-behind us, I heard the quick whiz of a bullet
suddenly striking something with a dry thud. My heart sank within me.
"Some one of our men must have been struck," I said to myself; but at
the same time I did not dare to turn round, under the influence of this
powerful presentiment. True enough, immediately after this sound the
heavy fall of a body was heard, and the "o-o-o-oï,"--the heart-rending
groan of the wounded man. "I'm hit, fellows," remarked a voice which I
knew. It was Velenchúk. He was lying on his back between the limbers
and the gun. The cartridge-box which he carried was flung to one side.
His forehead was all bloody, and over his right eye and his nose flowed
a thick red stream. The wound was in his body, but it bled very
little; he had hit his forehead on something when he fell.
All this I perceived after some little time. At the first instant I saw
only a sort of obscure mass, and a terrible quantity of blood as it
seemed to me.
None of the soldiers who were loading the gun said a word,--only the
recruit muttered between his teeth, "See, how bloody!" and Antónof,
frowning still blacker, snorted angrily; but all the time it was
evident that the thought of death presented itself to the mind of each.
All took hold of their work with great activity. The gun was discharged
every instant; and the gun-captain, in getting the canister, went
two steps around the place where lay the wounded man, now groaning
constantly.