“Well, be it so; this hell will be ended.”
He turned away his head and began with all his might to play the
required dance.
Ivan began the steps and grotesque attitudes of the Cossack dance,
which the old man especially liked, leaping and gambolling, and
uttering cries to distract his attention. When Kaskambo felt that the
dancer was near the axe, his heart throbbed with anxiety: this means of
their deliverance was in a little cupboard without a door, contrived
within the wall, but at a height to which Ivan could hardly reach. To
have it within his reach, he took advantage of a favourable moment,
seized it suddenly and at once placed it on the ground in the shadow
cast by Ibrahim’s body. When the latter looked at him, he was far from
the place, and continuing his dance. This dangerous scene had lasted
for some time, and Kaskambo, weary of playing, began to think that
his denshchik’s courage was failing, or that he did not think it a
favourable opportunity. He glanced at him at the instant when, having
seized the axe, the intrepid dancer was steadily advancing to strike
the brigand with it. The emotion felt by the major was so strong, that
he stopped playing, and let his guitar fall on his knees. At the same
moment, the old man had stooped, and made a step forward to push some
brushwood into the fire: some dry leaves burst into flame, and cast a
bright glow into the room. Ibrahim turned round to sit down.
If, at this juncture, Ivan had pursued his enterprise, a hand-to-hand
fight would have been inevitable: the alarm would have been given,
which above all it was needful to avoid; but his presence of mind
saved him. When he noticed the major’s confusion, and saw Ibrahim
rise, he placed the axe behind the very log which served as a seat to
the latter, and recommenced his dance. “Play, confound it!” he said
to his master; “what are you thinking of?” The major, realizing how
unwise he had been, began to play again softly. The old gaoler had no
suspicion, and sat down again; but he ordered them to finish the music
and lie down. Ivan, quietly going and taking the guitar-case, came and
placed it on the hearth; but, instead of taking the instrument which
his master held out to him, he suddenly snatched the axe from behind
Ibrahim, and dealt him such a frightful blow on the head, that the
unhappy man did not even utter a sigh, but fell stark dead, his face in
the fire; his long grey beard began to blaze; Ivan pulled him out by
the feet and covered him with a mat.
They were listening, to find out if the woman had been awakened, when,
surprised no doubt at the silence which reigned after so much noise,
she opened the door of her room: “What are you doing in here?” she
said, advancing towards the prisoners; “how is it that there is a smell
of burnt feathers?” The fire had just been scattered and gave hardly
any light. Ivan raised the axe to strike her; she had time to turn her
head, and received the blow on her breast, uttering a frightful sigh;
another blow, swifter than lightning, caught her as she fell, and
stretched her dead at Kaskambo’s feet. Terrified by this second murder,
which he had not expected, the major, seeing Ivan advance towards
the child’s room, placed himself in the way to stop him. “Where are
you going, wretched man?” he said; “would you be so barbarous as to
sacrifice the child too, who has shown me such friendship? If you set
me free at this price, neither your attachment nor your services shall
save you when we reach the line.”
“At the line,” answered Ivan, “you can do as you like; but here we must
make an end.”
Kaskambo, collecting all his strength, collared him as he attempted
to force his passage. “Wretch,” he said, “if you dare to attempt his
life, if you touch a single hair of his head, I swear here before God
that I will give myself up into the hands of the Tchetchens, and your
barbarity will be in vain.”
“Into the hands of the Tchetchens!” repeated the denshchik, raising
his bloody axe above his master’s head; “they shall never recapture
you alive; I will slay them, you and myself, before that happens. This
child might ruin us by giving the alarm; in your present state, women
would be enough to put you back in prison.”
“Stop! stop!” cried Kaskambo, from whose hands Ivan was trying to free
himself. “Stop! monster, you shall murder me before committing this
crime!”
But, impeded by his chains and weak as he was, he could not restrain
the ferocious young man, who thrust him back, so that he fell violently
to the ground, ready to faint from bewilderment and horror. While, all
stained with the blood of the first victims, he was attempting to rise,
“Ivan,” he cried, “I implore you, do not kill him! In the name of God,
do not spill the blood of that innocent creature!”
He ran to the help of the child as soon as he had the strength; but
when he reached the door of the room he knocked in the darkness against
Ivan coming out.
“All is over, master; let us lose no time, and don’t make a noise.
Don’t make a noise, I tell you,” he answered to his master’s despairing
reproaches: “what’s done is done; it is impossible to draw back now.
Until we are free, every man I meet is dead, or else he must kill me;
and if any one comes in here before our departure, I don’t care whether
it is a man, a woman, or a child, a friend or an enemy, I lay him there
with the others.”
He lighted a splinter of larch and began to rummage in the brigand’s
cartridge-box and pockets; the key of the fetters was not there:
he sought for it as vainly in the woman’s clothes, in a chest, and
wherever he fancied it could be hidden. Whilst he made this search, the
major gave himself up without restraint to his grief. Ivan comforted
him in his own way. “You would do better,” he said, “to weep for the
key of the fetters which is lost. Why should you regret this race of
brigands, who have tortured you for more than fifteen months? They
wanted to put us to death, well! their turn has come before ours. Is it
_my_ fault? May hell swallow them all!”
However, as the key of the fetters was not to be found, so many
slaughters would be in vain if they could not manage to break them.
Ivan, with the corner of the axe, succeeded in loosening the ring
on the hand, but that which fastened the chain to the feet resisted
all his efforts; he was afraid of hurting his master, and dared not
use all his strength. On the other hand, the night was advancing,
and the danger became urgent; they decided to go. Ivan fastened the
chain firmly to the major’s belt, so that it impeded him as little as
possible, and made no noise. He placed in a wallet a quarter of mutton,
the remains of the evening meal, added to it some other provisions,
and armed himself with the dead man’s pistol and dagger. Kaskambo took
possession of his “burka”;[16] they went out in silence, and, going
round the house to avoid meeting any one, they took the path into the
mountains, instead of going towards Mozdok and the ordinary road,
easily foreseeing that they would be pursued in that direction. For
the rest of the night they tramped along the mountains that lay on
their right, and when day began to dawn they entered a beech wood which
crowned the whole mountain, and sheltered them from the danger of being
seen from a distance.
It was in the month of February; the ground, on these heights, and
especially in the forest, was still covered with a hard snow which
supported the travellers’ steps during the night and part of the
morning; but towards midday, when it had been softened by the sun,
they sank at every instant, which made their progress very slow. Thus
they reached laboriously the side of a deep valley which they had to
cross, in the depths of which the snow had disappeared; a beaten path
followed the windings of the stream, and proclaimed that the place
was frequented. On this account, and because of the fatigue which
overwhelmed the major, the travellers decided to remain in that spot
to wait for the night; they settled down between some isolated rocks
which projected from the snow. Ivan cut down some pine-branches to make
from them, on the snow, a thick bed, on which the major slept. While
he rested, Ivan tried to find out where they were. The valley at the
summit of which they were was surrounded by lofty mountains between
which no outlet was visible: he saw that it was impossible to avoid
the beaten track, and that they must of necessity follow the course of
the stream in order to get out of the labyrinth. It was about eleven
o’clock at night, and the snow was beginning to harden again, when they
descended into the valley. But before beginning their journey they
set fire to their shelter, as much to warm themselves as to prepare a
little meal of shashlyk, of which they were in great need. A handful of
snow was their drink, and a mouthful of brandy finished the feast. They
crossed the valley, luckily without seeing anyone, and entered the pass
where the path and the stream were confined between steep perpendicular
mountains. They walked with all possible speed, knowing well the
danger they ran of being met in this narrow passage, out of which they
only emerged towards nine o’clock in the morning.
It was then only that the dark pass suddenly opened out, and that they
saw, beyond the lower mountains which intersected in front of them, the
immense horizon of Russia, like a distant sea. It would be difficult
to form an idea of the joy felt by the major at this unexpected sight.
“Russia! Russia!” was the only word he could pronounce. The travellers
sat down to rest and to enjoy beforehand their approaching freedom.
This anticipation of happiness was mingled in the major’s mind with the
memory of the horrible catastrophe which he had just witnessed, and
which his fetters and blood-stained clothes recalled to him vividly.
With eyes fixed on the distant goal of his labours, he calculated the
difficulties of the journey. The sight of the long and dangerous road
which remained for him to travel with fettered feet and legs swollen
with fatigue, soon obliterated even the trace of the momentary pleasure
which the sight of his native land had given him. To the torments of
imagination was added a burning thirst. Ivan went down to the stream
which flowed some way off to bring some water to his master; he found
there a bridge made of two trees and saw far off a dwelling. It was
a kind of chalet, a summer house of the Tchetchens which happened to
be empty. In the plight of the fugitives, this isolated house was
a precious discovery. Ivan came to tear his master away from his
reflections, in order to lead him into the refuge which he had just
discovered, and after having settled him there he at once began to look
for the store.
The inhabitants of the Caucasus, who, for the most part, are half
nomads and often exposed to attacks from their neighbours, always
have near their houses caves, in which they hide their provisions
and goods. These stores, formed like narrow wells, are closed with
a plank or large stone carefully covered with earth, and are always
placed in spots where turf is wanting, for fear the colour of the grass
should betray the deposit. In spite of these precautions, the Russian
soldiers often discover them; they strike the earth with the ramrods
of their guns in the beaten paths which are near dwellings, and the
sound indicates the hollows which they seek. Ivan found one under a
shed adjoining the house, in which he discovered earthenware pots, some
ears of maize, a piece of rock-salt and several household utensils.
He ran to fetch water for cooking purposes; the quarter of mutton and
some potatoes which he had brought were placed on the fire. While
the soup was preparing, Kaskambo roasted the ears of maize: finally,
some hazelnuts also found in the store completed the meal. When he
had finished, Ivan, with more time and means, succeeded in freeing
his master from his chains; and the latter, calmer, and revived by a
meal excellent under the circumstances, slept soundly, and it was deep
night when he awoke. In spite of this favourable rest, when he wanted
to continue his journey, his swollen legs were so stiff that he could
not make the least movement without suffering unbearable pain. However,
he had to go. Leaning on his servant, he set out mournfully, convinced
that he would never reach the longed-for goal. The motion and the heat
of walking appeased little by little the pain he was suffering. He
walked all night, often stopping, and then immediately recommencing his
march. Sometimes also, giving way to discouragement, he threw himself
on the ground, and urged Ivan to leave him to his evil fate. His
dauntless companion not only encouraged him by his talk and example,
but almost used violence to raise and drag him along with him. They
found in their journey a difficult and dangerous pass, which they could
not avoid. To wait for day would have caused an irreparable loss of
time; they decided to cross it at the risk of being dashed to pieces,
but, before allowing his master to enter upon it, Ivan wished to
reconnoitre and go over it alone. While he descended, Kaskambo stayed
on the brink of the rock in a state of anxiety difficult to describe.
The night was dark; he heard beneath his feet the dull murmur of a
rapid stream which flowed through the valley; the sound of the stones
loosened from the mountain under his companion’s tread, and falling
into the water, made him aware of the immense depth of the precipice
on the edge of which he had stopped. In this moment of anguish, which
might perhaps be the last of his life, the memory of his mother
returned to his mind; she had tenderly blessed him on his departure
from the line; this thought restored his courage. A secret presentiment
gave him the hope of seeing her again. “O God!” he cried, “grant that
her blessing may not be in vain!” As he was ending this short but
fervent prayer, Ivan reappeared. The pass when surveyed was not so
difficult as they had thought at first. After climbing down several
fathoms between the rocks, it was necessary, in order to reach the
practicable side, to walk along a narrow sloping ledge of rock, covered
with slippery snow, beneath which was a sheer precipice. Ivan with his
axe cut in the snow holes which made the passage easier: they crossed
themselves. “Come then,” said Kaskambo, “if I perish, at least let it
not be for want of courage; it was only illness that took that from
me. I will go on now as long as God gives me strength.” They emerged
successfully from the dangerous pass and continued their journey. The
paths began to be more continuous and well-beaten, and they no longer
found any snow except in places looking north, and on low-lying ground
where it had accumulated. They had the good fortune to meet nobody
until daybreak, when the sight of two men appearing in the distance
obliged them to lie down on the ground so that they might not be seen.
When the mountains are left behind in these provinces, woods are
no longer to be found; the ground there is absolutely bare, and a
single tree would be vainly sought, except on the banks of the large
rivers, where still they are very scarce, a most extraordinary thing,
considering the fertility of the soil. They had for some time been
following the course of the Sudja, which they had to cross to reach
Mozdok, seeking a place where the water, less rapid, would offer a
safer passage, when they saw a man on horseback coming straight towards
them. The country, completely open, offered neither trees nor bushes
as a means of hiding. They lay flat down under the bank of the Sudja,
on the edge of the water. The traveller passed within a few fathoms
of their lair. They intended only to defend themselves if they were
attacked. Ivan drew his dagger and gave the pistol to the major. Seeing
then that the rider was only a child of twelve or thirteen, he hurled
himself suddenly upon him, collared him, and threw him down on the
grass. The youth would have resisted, but, seeing the major appear on
the river-bank, pistol in hand, he fled at full speed. The horse had no
saddle, and a halter passed through its mouth by way of bridle. The two
fugitives at once made use of their capture to cross the river. This
encounter was very fortunate for them, for they soon saw that it would
have been impossible for them to pass it on foot, as they had purposed.
Their mount, although burdened with the weight of two men, was almost
carried away by the swiftness of the water. However, they arrived safe
and sound at the opposite shore, which unfortunately was too steep
for the horse to be able to land. They got off to lighten it. As Ivan
pulled with all his might to enable it to mount upon the shore, the
halter came unfastened and remained in his hands. The animal, swept
away by the current, after many efforts to land, was swallowed up in
the river, and drowned.
Deprived of this resource, but from this time less troubled as to
the danger of pursuit, they made for a hillock, covered with loose
rocks, which they saw in the distance, intending to hide themselves
and rest there until night. From their reckoning of the distance
they had already travelled, they judged that the dwellings of the
peaceful Tchetchens ought not to be very far away; but nothing could
be more unsafe than to give themselves up to these men, whose probable
treachery might be their undoing.
However, considering the weak state of Kaskambo, it would be very
difficult for him to reach the Terek unaided. Their provisions were
exhausted: they passed the rest of the day in gloomy silence, not
daring to reveal their anxieties to each other. Towards evening, the
major saw his denshchik strike his brow with his fist, uttering a deep
sigh. Astonished at this sudden despair, which his dauntless companion
had in no way evinced until then, he asked him the reason of it.
“Master,” said Ivan, “I have done something very wrong!”
“May God forgive us it!” answered Kaskambo, crossing himself.
“Yes,” continued Ivan, “I have forgotten to bring away that fine
carbine which was in the child’s room. What could you expect? It never
entered my mind: you were groaning so up there, and making such a
noise, that I forgot it. You’re laughing, are you? It was the best
carbine there was in the whole village. I would have made a present of
it to the first man we met, to put him on our side: for I don’t know
how, in the state I see you are in, we can finish our march.”
The weather, which till then had favoured them, changed during the day.
The cold Russian wind blew violently, and drove sleet in their faces.
They set out at nightfall, uncertain whether they should try to reach
some villages, or to avoid them. But the long stage which remained for
them to travel, supposing the latter, became absolutely impossible for
them owing to a fresh misfortune which befell them towards the end of
the night. As they were crossing a little ravine, over the remains of
snow which covered its bottom, the ice broke under their feet, and they
were plunged in water up to the knees. Kaskambo’s efforts to extricate
himself made his garments wetter than ever. Since the time when they
set out, the cold had never been so keen; the whole country-side was
white with sleet. After walking for a quarter of an hour, seized by the
cold, he fell, through weariness and pain, and absolutely refused to
go any farther. Seeing the impossibility of reaching the goal of his
journey, he considered it a useless barbarity to detain his companion,
who could easily escape by himself.
“Listen, Ivan,” he said, “God is my witness that I have done all I
could up till now to take advantage of the help you have given me, but
you see that it can no longer save me, and that my fate is sealed. Go
on to the line, my dear Ivan, return to our regiment; I command you.
Say to my old friends and to my superior officers that you have left
me here to feed the ravens, and that I wish them a better fate. But,
before you go, recollect the oath which you made up yonder in the blood
of our gaolers. You swore that the Tchetchens should not recapture me
alive: keep your word.”
So saying, he lay down on the ground, and covered himself completely
with his burka.
“There is one resource left,” Ivan answered; “it is to seek the
dwelling of a Tchetchen and to win over its master with promises. If
he betrays us, we shall at least have less with which to reproach
ourselves. Try again to drag yourself so far; or else,” he added,
seeing that his master kept silence, “I will go alone, and try to win
over a Tchetchen; and, if it turns out well, I will return with him to
fetch you; if badly, if I perish and do not come back, here, take the
pistol.”
Kaskambo stretched out a hand from under the burka and took the pistol.
Ivan covered him with dry grass and brushwood for fear he should be
discovered by anyone during his excursion. As he prepared to go, his
master called him back. “Ivan,” he said, “hear again my last request.
If you recross the Terek, and if you see my mother again without me ...”
“Master,” Ivan interrupted, “good-bye for the present. If you perish,
neither your mother nor mine will ever see me again.”
After an hour’s walk, he saw from a small eminence two villages three
or four versts distant; that was not what he sought; he wanted to find
an isolated house, which he could enter without being seen, to win over
its master secretly. The distant smoke of a chimney discovered to him
one such as he desired. He at once betook himself thither, and entered
without hesitation. The master of the house was sitting on the ground,
engaged in patching one of his boots.
“I have come,” said Ivan, “to give you the chance of earning two
hundred roubles, and to ask a service of you. No doubt you have heard
of Major Kaskambo, a prisoner among the mountaineers. Well, I have
rescued him; he is here, a step off, ill and in your power. Should you
please to give him up again to his enemies, they will praise you no
doubt, but, you know well, they will not reward you. If on the contrary
you consent to save him, by keeping him in your house for three days
only, I will go to Mozdok, and will bring you two hundred roubles in
hard cash for his ransom; while, if you dare to stir from your place,”
(he added, drawing his dagger) “and to give the alarm to have me
seized, I will kill you. Your word at once, or you are dead.”
Ivan’s assured tone convinced the Tchetchen without alarming him.
“Young man,” he said, calmly putting on his boot, “I also have a
dagger in my girdle, and yours does not terrify me. Had you entered my
house as a friend, I would never have betrayed a man who had passed my
threshold; but now I promise nothing. Sit down there, and say what you
will.”
Ivan, seeing with whom he had to deal, sheathed his dagger again, sat
down, and repeated his proposal.
“What security will you give me,” asked the Tchetchen, “for the
fulfilment of your promise?”
“I will leave you the major himself,” Ivan answered; “do you think I
would have suffered for fifteen months, and brought my master to you,
to desert him?”
“That is all right, I believe you; but two hundred roubles is not
enough: I must have four hundred.”
“Why not ask four thousand? it is easy enough; but I, who wish to keep
my word, offer you two hundred, because I know where to get them, and
not a copeck more. Do you want to make me deceive you?”
“Well, be it so; I agree to two hundred roubles; and you will return
alone, and in three days?”
“Yes, alone, and in three days, I give you my word! But have you given
me yours? is the major your guest?”
“He is my guest, and you as well, from this moment, you have my word
for it.”
They shook hands and ran to fetch the major, whom they brought back
half dead with cold and hunger.
Instead of going to Mozdok, Ivan, learning that he was nearer to
Tchervelianskaya-Stanitsa, where there was a large body of Cossacks,
went thither immediately. He had no difficulty in collecting the
sum he needed. The good Cossacks, some of whom had been engaged in
the unfortunate affair which had cost Kaskambo his liberty, clubbed
together with alacrity to complete the ransom. On the day fixed, Ivan
set out to go at last and set his master free, but the colonel who
commanded the outpost, fearing some fresh treachery, did not allow him
to return alone, and in spite of the agreement made with the Tchetchen
he had him accompanied by some Cossacks.
This precaution again was nearly fatal to Kaskambo. From his first
distant sight of the Cossack lances, his host thought himself betrayed,
and, displaying at once the savage courage of his nation, he led the
major, who was still ill, on to the roof of the house, bound him to
a post, and placed himself opposite him, carbine in hand: “If you
advance,” he shouted, when Ivan was within hearing, at the same time
aiming at his prisoner, “if you make another step, I will blow out the
major’s brains, and I have fifty cartridges for my enemies and the
traitor who brings them.”
“You are not betrayed,” cried the denshchik, trembling for his master’s
life; “they forced me to come back accompanied, but I have brought the
two hundred roubles, and have kept my word.”
“Let the Cossacks withdraw,” added the Tchetchen, “or I will fire.”
Kaskambo himself begged the officer to retire. Ivan followed the
detachment for some time and returned alone; but the suspicious brigand
did not allow him to approach. He made him count out the roubles a
hundred paces from the house, on the path, and ordered him to go away.
As soon as he had taken possession of them, he went back to the roof
and threw himself down at the major’s feet, begging his pardon and
imploring him to forget the ill treatment which, he said, he had been
forced to make him suffer for his own safety. “I will only remember,”
Kaskambo answered, “that I have been your guest and that you have
kept your word to me; but, before asking my pardon, please begin by
unfastening my bonds.” Instead of answering him, the Tchetchen, seeing
Ivan returning, jumped from the roof and disappeared like lightning.
On the same day, honest Ivan had the pleasure and glory of restoring
his master to the bosom of his friends, who had despaired of seeing him
again.
The gleaner of this tale, a few months afterwards, at Yegorievski,
passing, during the night, before a little house, handsome and very
much lighted up, got out of his “kibitka,”[17] and approached a window
to enjoy the sight of a very lively ball which was being given on the
ground-floor. A young non-commissioned officer was also looking very
attentively at what was going on inside the room.
“Who is giving the ball?” the traveller asked him.
“The major, who is being married.”
“What is the major’s name?”
“His name is Kaskambo.”
The traveller, knowing the strange story of that officer, congratulated
himself on having yielded to his curiosity, and had pointed out to him
the bridegroom, who, beaming with pleasure, forgot in that hour the
Tchetchens and their cruelty.
“Show me, pray,” he again added, “the brave denshchik who delivered
him.”
The non-commissioned officer, after hesitating for some time, answered,
“It was myself.”
Doubly surprised at the encounter, and still more so at finding him so
young, the traveller asked him his age. He had not yet completed his
twentieth year, and had just received a gratuity, with the rank of a
non-commissioned officer, as a reward for his courage and fidelity.
This splendid fellow, after having voluntarily shared his master’s
misfortunes, and restored him to life and liberty, was now rejoicing
in his happiness, as he looked at his wedding-festivities through the
window. But as the stranger expressed his surprise that he was not
present at the merry making, taxing his former master with ingratitude
on this score, Ivan gave him a black look, and re-entered the house
whistling the tune of “Hey lully, hey lully.” He appeared soon
afterwards in the ball-room, and the inquisitive stranger got into his
kibitka again, very thankful to have escaped having his head split open
with an axe.