The swift boats bearing the knight and his fortunes shot down the
current with the speed of swallows. By reason of high water the
Cataracts presented no great danger. They passed Surski and Lokhanny; a
lucky wave threw them over the Voronoff bar; the boats grated a little
on the Knyaji and Streletski, but they were scratched, not broken. At
length they beheld in the distance the foaming and whirling of the
terrible Nenasytets. There they were obliged to land and drag the boats
along the shore,--a tedious and difficult labor, usually occupying an
entire day. Fortunately a great many blocks, apparently left by
previous travellers, lay along the whole way; these were placed under
the boats to ease them over the ground. In all the region about and on
the steppes not a living soul was to be seen, nor a single boat; for
none could sail to the Saitch excepting those alone whom Pan Grodzitski
permitted to pass Kudák, and Pan Grodzitski cut off the Zaporojie from
the rest of the world on purpose. Only the splash of the waves on the
cliff of Nenasytets broke the silence.
While the men were dragging the boats, Skshetuski examined this wonder
of Nature. An awful sight met his eyes. Through the entire width of the
river extended crosswise seven rocky ridges, jutting out above the
water, black, rent by waves which broke through them gaps and passages
after their fashion. The river pressed with the whole weight of its
waters against those ridges, and was broken on them; then wild and
raging, lashed into white foaming pulp, it sought to spring over like
an infuriated horse, but, pushed back again before it could sweep
through the passage, it seemed to gnaw the rocks with its teeth, making
enormous circles in impotent wrath; it leaped up toward the sky, raging
like a monster, panting like a wild beast in pain. And then again a
roar from it as from a hundred cannon, howls as from whole packs of
wolves, wheezing, struggling, and at every ridge the same conflict.
Over the abyss were heard screams of birds, as if terrified by the
sight. Between the ridges the gloomy shadows of the cliff quivered like
spirits of evil.
The men, though accustomed to the place, crossed themselves devoutly
while dragging the boats, warning the lieutenant not to approach too
near the shore; for there were traditions that whoever should gaze too
long on Nenasytets would at last see something at which his mind would
be disturbed. They asserted, also, that at times there rose from the
whirlpool long black hands which caught the unwary who approached too
near, and then terrible laughter was heard through the precipices. The
Zaporojians did not dare to drag boats along in the night-time.
No man could be received into the Brotherhood of the Saitch who had not
crossed the Cataracts alone in a boat; but an exception was made of
Nenasytets, since its rocks were never under water. Of Bogun alone
blind minstrels sang as if he had stolen through Nenasytets; still
belief was not given to the song.
The transfer of the boats occupied nearly all the day, and the sun had
begun to set when the lieutenant resumed his place in the boat. But to
make up for this the succeeding Cataracts were crossed with ease, for
the rocks were covered entirely, and after that they sailed out into
the quiet waters of the lower country.
Along the way Skshetuski saw on the field of Kuchkasi the enormous
mound of white stone raised at command of Prince Yeremi as a memorial
of his visit, and of which Pan Boguslav Mashkevich had spoken in Lubni.
From there it was not far to the Saitch. But the lieutenant did not
wish to enter the Chertomelik labyrinth in the dark; he determined
therefore to pass the night at Hortitsa.
He wished to meet some Zaporojians and announce himself, so that it
should be known that an envoy and no one else was coming. Hortitsa,
however, appeared to be empty; which surprised the lieutenant not a
little, for he had learned from Grodzitski that a Cossack garrison was
always stationed there against Tartar attacks. He went himself with
some of the men a considerable distance from the shore to reconnoitre;
but he could not go over the whole island, for it was more than five
miles long, and the night was coming down dark and not very clear. He
returned then to the boats, which meanwhile had been dragged up on the
sand, and a fire had been made as protection against mosquitoes.
The greater part of the night passed quietly. The Cossacks and the
guides slept by the fire. Only the guards were awake, and the
lieutenant, who had been tormented by a terrible sleeplessness since he
left Kudák. He felt also that fever was wearing him. At times he
fancied he heard steps approaching from the interior of the island,
then again certain strange sounds like the distant bleating of goats.
But he thought that his hearing deceived him. Suddenly, when it was
near daybreak, a dark figure stood before him. It was a servant from
the guard.
"People are coming!" said he, hastily.
"Who are they?"
"Undoubtedly Zaporojians. There are forty of them."
"Very well. That is not a great number. Rouse the men! Stir the fire!"
The Cossacks sprang to their feet at once. The replenished fire blazed
high, and lighted the boats and the handful of soldiers under the
lieutenant. The guards ran up also to the circle.
Meanwhile the irregular steps of a crowd became distinctly audible. The
steps stopped at a certain distance. Immediately some voice inquired in
threatening accents,--
"Who is on shore?"
"And who are you?" answered the sergeant.
"Answer, son of the enemy! if not, we will inquire with a musket."
"His Highness, the envoy of Prince Yeremi Vishnyevetski, going to the
koshevoi ataman," said the sergeant, with emphasis.
The voices in the crowd were silent; evidently there was a short
consultation.
"But come here yourself," cried the sergeant; "don't be afraid! People
do not fall upon envoys, and envoys do not attack."
Steps were heard again, and after a while a number of figures came out
of the shadow. By the swarthy complexion, low stature, and skin coats
with wool outside, the lieutenant knew from the first glance that most
of them were Tartars; there were only a few Cossacks among them. The
idea flashed like lightning through Skshetuski's brain that if the
Tartars were in Hortitsa Hmelnitski had returned from the Crimea.
In front of the crowd stood an old Zaporojian of gigantic size, with a
wild and savage face. Approaching the fire, he asked,--
"Who is the envoy here?" A strong smell of spirits came from him; the
Zaporojian was evidently drunk. "Who is envoy here?" repeated he.
"I am," said Skshetuski, haughtily.
"Thou!"
"Am I a brother to thee that thou sayest 'Thou' to me?"
"Learn politeness, you ruffian!" interrupted the sergeant. "You must
say, 'Serene great mighty lord envoy.'"
"Destruction to you, devils' sons! May the death of Serpyagoff strike
you, serene great mighty sons! And what business have you with the
ataman?"
"It is not thy affair! Know only that thy life depends upon my reaching
the ataman as quickly as possible."
At that moment another Zaporojian came out from the crowd.
"We are here at the command of the ataman," said he, "on guard so that
no one from the Poles may approach; and if any man approaches, we are
to bind him and deliver him bound, and we will do that."
"Whoever goes voluntarily, you will not bind."
"I will, for such is the order."
"Do you know, clown, what the person of an envoy means? Do you know
whom I represent?"
Then the old giant interrupted: "We will lead in the envoy, but by the
beard,--in this fashion!"
Saying this, he reached his hand to the lieutenant's beard. But that
moment he groaned, and as if struck by lightning dropped to the earth.
The lieutenant had shivered his head with a battle-hammer.
"Slash! slash!" howled enraged voices from the crowd.
The Cossacks of the prince hurried to the rescue of their leader;
muskets roared. "Slash! slash!" was mingled with the clash of steel. A
regular battle began. The fire, trampled in the disturbance, went out,
and darkness surrounded the combatants. Soon both sides had grappled
each other so closely that there was no room for blows and knives;
fists and teeth took the place of sabres.
All at once, in the interior of the island, were heard numerous fresh
shouts and cries. Aid was coming to the attacking party. Another moment
and they would have come too late, for the disciplined Cossacks were
getting the upper hand of the crowd.
"To the boats!" cried the lieutenant, in a thundering voice.
The escort executed the command in a twinkle. Unfortunately the boats
had been dragged too far on the sand, and could not be pushed at once
into the water. That moment the enemy sprang furiously toward the
shore.
"Fire!" commanded Pan Yan.
A discharge of musketry restrained the assailants, who became confused,
crowded together, and retreated in disorder, leaving a number of bodies
stretched upon the sand. Some of these bodies squirmed convulsively,
like fish snatched from the water and thrown on shore.
The boatmen, assisted by a number of the Cossacks, planting their oars
in the ground, pushed with all their might to get the boats into the
water; but in vain.
The enemy began their attack from a distance. The splashing of balls on
the water was mingled with the whistling of arrows and the groans of
the wounded. The Tartars, shouting "Allah!" with increased shrillness,
urged one another on. The Cossack cries: "Cut! cut!" answered them; and
the calm voice of Skshetuski, repeating faster and faster the command,
"Fire!"
The dawn was beginning to shine with pale light on the struggle. From
the land side was to be seen a crowd of Cossacks and Tartars, some with
their muskets held ready to aim, others stooping in the rear and
drawing their bowstrings; from the side of the water two boats smoking
and flashing with the continual discharges of musketry. Between them
lay bodies stretched quietly on the sand.
In one of these boats stood Pan Yan, taller than the others, haughty,
calm, with the lieutenant's staff in his hand and with uncovered
head,--for a Tartar arrow had swept away his cap. The sergeant
approached him and whispered,--
"We cannot hold out; the crowd is too great!"
But the lieutenant's only thought was to seal his mission with his
blood, to prevent the disgrace of his office, and to perish not without
glory. Therefore, when the Cossacks made a sort of breastwork for
themselves of the provision bags, from behind which they struck the
enemy, he remained visible and exposed to attack.
"Good!" said he; "we will die to the last man."
"We will die, father!" cried the Cossacks.
"Fire!"
Again the boats smoked. From the interior of the island new crowds
came, armed with pikes and scythes. The assailants separated into two
parties. One party kept up the fire; the other, composed of more than
two hundred Cossacks and Tartars, only waited the proper moment for a
hand-to-hand encounter. At the same time from the reeds of the island
came out four boats, which were to attack the lieutenant from the rear
and from both sides.
It was clear daylight now. The smoke stretched out in long streaks in
the quiet air, and covered the scene of conflict.
The lieutenant commanded his twenty Cossacks to turn to the attacking
boats, which, pushed with oars, moved on swiftly as birds over the
quiet water of the river. The fire directed against the Tartars and
Cossacks approaching from the interior of the island, was notably
weakened on that account. They seemed, too, to expect this.
The sergeant approached the lieutenant again.
"The Tartars are taking their daggers between their teeth; they will
rush on us this minute."
In fact, almost three hundred of the horde, with sabres in hand and
knives in their teeth, prepared for the attack. They were accompanied
by some tens of Zaporojians armed with scythes.
The attack was to begin from every direction, for the assailing boats
were within gunshot; their sides were already covered with smoke.
Bullets began to fall like hail on the lieutenant's men. Both boats
were filled with groans. In a few moments half of the Cossacks were
down; the remainder still defended themselves desperately. Their faces
were black, their hands wearied, their sight dim, their eyes full of
blood; their gun-barrels began to burn their hands. Most of them were
wounded.
At that moment a terrible cry and howl rent the air. The Tartars rushed
to the attack.
The smoke, pushed by the movement of the mass of bodies, separated
suddenly and left exposed to the eye the two boats of the lieutenant
covered with a dark crowd of Tartars, like two carcasses of horses torn
by a pack of wolves. Some Cossacks resisted yet; and at the mast stood
Pan Yan, with bleeding face and an arrow sunk to the shaft in his left
shoulder, but defending himself furiously. His form was like that of a
giant in the crowd surrounding him. His sabre glittered like lightning;
groans and howls responded to his blows. The sergeant, with another
Cossack, guarded him on both sides; and the crowd swayed back at times
in terror before those three, but, urged from behind, pushed on, and
died under the blows of the sabre.
"Take them alive to the ataman!" was called out in the crowd.
"Surrender!"
But Skshetuski was surrendering only to God; for he grew pale in a
moment, tottered, and fell to the bottom of the boat.
"Farewell, father!" cried the sergeant, in despair.
But in a moment he fell also. The moving mass of assailants covered the
boats completely.