“Do me the favor, my lord, to order me a glass of brandy; tea is not the
Cossack’s drink.”
I willingly granted the request. The host took from the shelf of a
closet a bottle and a glass, and going up to him, looking him full in
the face, said:
“Ah! ah! here you are again in our district. Whence has God brought
you?”
My guide winked in the most significant fashion and replied by the
well-know proverb: “‘The sparrow was in the orchard eating flax-seed;
the grandmother threw a stone at it, and missed.’ And you? how are all
yours?”
“How are we?” said the host, and continuing in proverbs: “‘They began to
ring the bell for Vespers, but the priest’s wife forbade it. The priest
went visiting, and the devils are in the graveyard.’”
“Be silent, uncle,” said the vagabond.
“‘When there shall be rain, there will be mushrooms, and when there
shall be mushrooms, there will be a basket to put them in. Put thy
hatchet behind thy back, the forest guard is out walking.’”
“To your lordship’s health.” Taking the glass, he made the sign of the
cross, and at one gulp swallowed his brandy. He then saluted me and
remounted to his loft. I did not understand a word of this thief’s
slang. It was only in the sequel that I learned that they spoke of
the affairs of the army of the Iaik, which had just been reduced to
obedience after the revolt of 1772. Saveliitch listened and glanced
suspiciously from host to guide.
The species of inn where we were sheltered was in the very heart of the
steppes, far from the road and every inhabited spot, and looked very
much like a rendezvous of robbers. But to set off again on our journey
was impossible. The disgust of Saveliitch amused not a little; however,
he finally decided to mount upon the roof of the stove, the ordinary bed
of the Russian peasant. The warm bricks of the hot-air chamber of the
stove diffused a grateful heat, and soon the old man and the host, who
had laid himself on the floor, were snoring. I stretched myself upon
a bench, and slept like a dead. Awaking next morning quite late, I saw
that the hurricane was over. The sun shone out, the snow extended in the
distance like a sheet of dazzling white damask. The horses were already
at the door, harnessed. I paid our host, who asked so small a pittance
that even Saveliitch did not, as usual, haggle over the price. His
suspicions of the evening before had entirely disappeared. I called the
guide to thank him for the service he had done us, and told Saveliitch
to give him half a rouble. Saveliitch frowned.
“Half a rouble,” said he; “What for? Because you yourself deigned to
bring him to the inn? Your will be done, my lord, but we have not a
rouble to spare. If we begin by giving drink money to every one we shall
end by dying of hunger.”
It was useless to argue with him; my money, according to my promise, was
entirely at his discretion. But it was very unpleasant not to be able to
reward a man who had extricated me from danger, perhaps death.
“Well,” said I, coolly, “if you will not give him half a rouble, give
one of my coats--he is too thinly clad; give him the hare-skin touloup.”
“Have mercy on me! My dear Peter,” said Saveliitch, “what does he want
with your touloup? He will drink its price, the dog, at the first inn.”
“That, my good old man, is none of your business,” said the vagabond;
“his lordship following the custom of royalty to vassals, gives me a
coat from his own back, and your duty as serf is not to dispute, but to
obey.”
“You have not the fear of God, brigand that you are,” said Saveliitch,
angrily; “you see that the child has not yet attained to full reason,
and there you are, glad to pillage him, thanks to his kind heart. You
can not even wear the pelisse on your great, cursed shoulders.”
“Come,” said I, “do not play the logician; bring the touloup quickly.”
“Oh, Lord!” said the old man, moaning--“a touloup of hare-skin! Quite
new,--to give it to a drunkard in rags.”
It was brought, however, and the vagabond began to get into it. It
was rather tight for me, and was much too small for him. He put it
on, nevertheless, but with great difficulty, bursting all the seams.
Saveliitch uttered something like a smothered howl, when he heard the
threads crack. As for the vagabond, he was well pleased with my present.
He re-conducted me to my kibitka, and said, with a profound bow:
“Thanks, my lord, may god reward you. I shall never forget your
goodness.”
He went his way,--I set out on mine, paying no attention to the
sullenness of Saveliitch. I soon forgot the hurricane and the guide, as
well as the touloup of hare-skin.
Arrived at Orenbourg, I presented myself at once to the General. He was
a tall man, bent by age, with long hair quite white. An old, worn-out
uniform, recalled the soldier of the times of the Empress Anne, and his
speech betrayed a strong German accent.