Demid lived on his own plot of ground, which, like the village, stood
on a hill above the river. But here the hill was higher and steeper,
sweeping the edge of the horizon. The wood was nearer, and its grey-
trunked cedars and pines rose from their beds of golden moss to shake
their crests to the stars and stretch their dark-green forest hands
right up to the house. The view was wide and sweeping from here: the
dark, turbulent river, the marsh beyond, the deep-blue billowing
woods fringing the horizon, the heavy lowering sky--all were clearly
visible.
The house, made of huge pines, with timbered walls, plain white-
washed ceilings and floors, was bestrewn with pelts of bears, elks,
wolves, foxes, and ermines. Gunpowder and grape-shot lay on the
tables. In the corners was a medley of lassoes, snares, and
wolftraps. Some rifles hung round the walls. There was a strong
pungent odour, as though all the perfumes of the woods were collected
here. The house contained two rooms and a kitchen.
In the centre of one of the rooms stood a large, rough-hewn table;
round it were some low wooden stools covered with bear-skin. This was
Demid's own room; in the other was the young bear, Makar.
Demid lay motionless for a long time on his bear-skin bed, listening
to the vibrations of his great body--how it lived and throbbed, how
the rich blood coursed through its veins. Makar, the bear,
approached, laid his heavy paws on his chest, and amicably sniffed at
his body. Demid stroked the beast on its ear, and it seemed as if the
man and animal understood each other. Outside the window loomed the
wood.
Demid was rugged and broad-shouldered, a large, quiet, dark-eyed,
good man. He smelt of the woods, and was strong and healthy. Like all
the hunters, he dressed in furs and a rough, home-woven fabric
streaked with red. He wore high, heavy boots made of reindeer hide,
and his coarse, broad hands were covered with broken chilblains.
Makar was young, and, like all young things, he was foolish. He liked
to roll about, and was often destructive--he would gnaw the nets and
skins, break the traps, and lick up the gunpowder. Then Demid
punished him, whereupon Makar would turn on his heel, make foolish
grimaces, and whine plaintively.
V
Demid went to the maidens on the slope and took Marina to his plot of
land. She became his wife.