"No, I will not go; it would not do to abandon a comrade." He lifted him
again on his shoulder, and started on. Thus he made a verst. It was forest
all the way, and no sign of outlet. But the fog was now beginning to lift,
and seemed to be floating away in little clouds: not a star could be seen.
Zhilin was tired out.
A little spring gushed out by the road: it was walled in with stones. There
he stopped, and dropped Kostuilin.
"Let me rest a little," says he, "and get a drink. We will eat our cakes.
It can't be very far now."
He had just stretched himself out to drink, when the sound of hoofs was
heard behind them. Again they hid in the bushes at the right under the
crest, and crouched down.
They heard Tatar voices. The Tatars stopped at the very spot where they had
turned in from the road. After discussing a while, they seemed to be
setting dogs on the scent.
The refugees hear the sound of a crashing through the bushes: a strange dog
comes directly to them. He stops and barks.
The Tatars followed on their track. They are also strangers.
They seized them, bound them, lifted them on horses, and carried them off.
After they had ridden three versts, Abdul, with two Tatars, met them. He
said something to their new captors. They were transferred to Abdul's
horses, and were brought back to the aul.
Abdul was no longer grinning, and he said not a word to them.
They reached the village at daybreak; the prisoners were left in the
street. The children gathered around them, tormenting them with stones and
whips, and howling.
The Tatars gathered around them in a circle, and the old man from the
mountain was among them. They began to discuss. Zhilin made out that they
were deciding on what should be done with them. Some said that they ought
to be sent farther into the mountains, but the old man declared that they
must be killed. Abdul argued against it. Says he, "I have paid out money
for them, I shall get a ransom for them."
But the old man said, "They won't pay any thing; it will only be an injury
to us. And it is a sin to keep Russians alive. Kill them, and that is the
end of it."
They separated. Abdul came to Zhilin, and reported the decision.
"If," says he, "the ransom is not sent in two weeks, you will be flogged.
And if you try to run away again, I will kill you like a dog. Write your
letter, and write it good!"
Paper was brought them; they wrote their letters. Clogs were put on their
feet again; they were taken behind the mosque.... There was a pit twelve
feet[102] deep, and they were thrust down into this pit.
[Footnote 102: Five arshins, 11.65 feet.]