Zhilin gave a slight whistle. There was a dash of feet from the path into
the forest, a crackling in the underbrush, and something rushed along like
a hurricane, with a crashing of dry boughs.
Kostuilin almost fell to the ground in fright. But Zhilin laughed, and
said,--
"That was a stag. Do you hear how it crashes through the woods with its
horns? We frightened him, and he frightened us."
They went on their way. Already the Great Bear was beginning to set; the
dawn was not distant. And they were in doubt whether they should come out
right or not. Zhilin was inclined to think that they were on the right
track, and that it would be about ten versts farther before they reached
the Russian fortress, but there is no certain guide; you could not tell in
the night.