I sleep sound. But all the time I can hear the chords of the bells,
and in my dream I can see a dog barking and jumping after me; then the
organ, one stop of which I seem to draw out; then the French poem which
I am composing. Then it seems to me that this triad is some instrument
of torture with which my right foot is constantly compressed. This was
so severe that I woke up, and opening my eyes I rubbed my leg. It was
beginning to grow numb with cold.
The night was, as before, light, melancholy, white. The sledge and its
passengers were still shaken by the same motion; there was Ignashka
sitting on one side and stamping his feet. There was the off-horse as
before, straining her neck, lifting her feet, as she trotted over the
deep snow; the tassel slipping along the reins, and whipping against
the horse's belly; the head of the shaft-horse, with the waving mane,
alternately pulling and loosening the reins attached to the bell-bow
as it nodded up and down. But all this was covered and hidden with
snow far more than before. The snow was whirled about in front of us,
and covered up our runners, and reached above the horses' knees, and
fell thick and fast on our collars and caps. The wind blew now from
the right, now from the left, and played with the collar and tails of
Ignashka's cloak, the mane of the horses, and howled above the bell-bow
and the shafts.
It had become fearfully cold; and I had scarcely lifted my head out
of my collar ere the frosty dry snow made its way, rustling, into my
eyelids, nose, and mouth, and ran down my neck. Looking around, all was
white, light, and snowy; nothing anywhere except a melancholy light
and the snow. I felt a sensation of real terror. Alyoshka was sitting
cross-legged in the very depths of the sledge; his whole back was
covered with a thick deposit of snow.
Ignashka still kept up his spirits; he kept constantly pulling at the
reins, stamping and pounding his feet. The bell also sounded strange.
The horses sometimes snorted, but plunged along more quietly, though
they stumbled more and more often. Ignashka again sprang up, swung his
mittens, and began to sing in his clear, strong voice. Not ceasing to
sing, he stopped the troïka, tossed the reins on the dasher, and got
out. The wind howled madly; the snow, as though shovelled down, was
dashed upon the folds of my furs.
I looked around. The third troïka was nowhere to be seen (it had
stopped somewhere). Next the second troïka, in a mist of snow, could be
seen the little old man making his way with long strides. Ignashka went
three steps from the sledge, sat down in the snow, took off his girdle,
and began to remove his boots.
"What are you going to do?" I asked.
"Must change my boots: this leg is frozen solid," he replied, and went
on with his work.
It was cold for me to keep my neck out of my collar to watch what he
was doing. I sat straight, looking at the off-horse, which, with legs
spread, stood feebly switching its snow-covered tail. The thump which
Ignat gave the sledge as he clambered to his place startled me.
"Well, where are we now?" I asked. "Are we getting anywhere in the
world?"
"Don't you worry. We shall get there," he replied. "Now my feet are
thoroughly warm, since I changed them."
And he drove on; the bells jingled, the sledge again began to rock, and
the wind whistled under the runners, and once more we struggled to swim
through the limitless ocean of snow.