Noise and movement were rife in the Zaporozhian camp. At first, no one
could account for the relieving army having made its way into the city;
but it afterwards appeared that the Pereyaslavsky kuren, encamped before
the wide gate of the town, had been dead drunk. It was no wonder that
half had been killed, and the other half bound, before they knew what it
was all about. Meantime the neighbouring kurens, aroused by the tumult,
succeeded in grasping their weapons; but the relieving force had already
passed through the gate, and its rear ranks fired upon the sleepy and
only half-sober Zaporozhtzi who were pressing in disorder upon them, and
kept them back.
The Koschevoi ordered a general assembly; and when all stood in a ring
and had removed their caps and became quiet, he said: “See what happened
last night, brother gentles! See what drunkenness has led to! See what
shame the enemy has put upon us! It is evident that, if your allowances
are kindly doubled, then you are ready to stretch out at full length,
and the enemies of Christ can not only take your very trousers off you,
but sneeze in your faces without your hearing them!”
The Cossacks all stood with drooping heads, knowing that they were
guilty; only Kukubenko, the hetman of the Nezamisky kuren, answered
back. “Stop, father!” said he; “although it is not lawful to make
a retort when the Koschevoi speaks before the whole army, yet it is
necessary to say that that was not the state of the case. You have not
been quite just in your reprimand. The Cossacks would have been guilty,
and deserving of death, had they got drunk on the march, or when engaged
on heavy toilsome labour during war; but we have been sitting here
unoccupied, loitering in vain before the city. There was no fast or
other Christian restraint; how then could it be otherwise than that a
man should get drunk in idleness? There is no sin in that. But we had
better show them what it is to attack innocent people. They first beat
us well, and now we will beat them so that not half a dozen of them will
ever see home again.”
The speech of the hetman of the kuren pleased the Cossacks. They raised
their drooping heads upright and many nodded approvingly, muttering,
“Kukubenko has spoken well!” And Taras Bulba, who stood not far from the
Koschevoi, said: “How now, Koschevoi? Kukubenko has spoken truth. What
have you to say to this?”
“What have I to say? I say, Blessed be the father of such a son! It
does not need much wisdom to utter words of reproof; but much wisdom
is needed to find such words as do not embitter a man’s misfortune, but
encourage him, restore to him his spirit, put spurs to the horse of his
soul, refreshed by water. I meant myself to speak words of comfort to
you, but Kukubenko has forestalled me.”
“The Koschevoi has also spoken well!” rang through the ranks of the
Zaporozhtzi. “His words are good,” repeated others. And even the
greyheads, who stood there like dark blue doves, nodded their heads and,
twitching their grey moustaches, muttered softly, “That was well said.”
“Listen now, gentles,” continued the Koschevoi. “To take the city, by
scaling its walls, or undermining them as the foreign engineers do,
is not proper, not Cossack fashion. But, judging from appearances,
the enemy entered the city without many provisions; they had not many
waggons with them. The people in the city are hungry; they will all eat
heartily, and the horses will soon devour the hay. I don’t know whether
their saints will fling them down anything from heaven with hayforks;
God only knows that though there are a great many Catholic priests among
them. By one means or another the people will seek to leave the city.
Divide yourselves, therefore, into three divisions, and take up your
posts before the three gates; five kurens before the principal gate, and
three kurens before each of the others. Let the Dadikivsky and Korsunsky
kurens go into ambush and Taras and his men into ambush too. The
Titarevsky and Timoschevsky kurens are to guard the baggage train on
the right flank, the Scherbinovsky and Steblikivsky on the left, and to
select from their ranks the most daring young men to face the foe. The
Lyakhs are of a restless nature and cannot endure a siege, and perhaps
this very day they will sally forth from the gates. Let each hetman
inspect his kuren; those whose ranks are not full are to be recruited
from the remains of the Pereyaslavsky kuren. Inspect them all anew. Give
a loaf and a beaker to each Cossack to strengthen him. But surely every
one must be satiated from last night; for all stuffed themselves so
that, to tell the truth, I am only surprised that no one burst in the
night. And here is one further command: if any Jew spirit-seller sells a
Cossack so much as a single jug of brandy, I will nail pig’s ears to his
very forehead, the dog, and hang him up by his feet. To work, brothers,
to work!”
Thus did the Koschevoi give his orders. All bowed to their girdles, and
without putting on their caps set out for their waggons and camps. It
was only when they had gone some distance that they covered themselves.
All began to equip themselves: they tested their swords, poured powder
from the sacks into their powder-flasks, drew up and arranged the
waggons, and looked to their horses.
On his way to his band, Taras wondered what had become of Andrii; could
he have been captured and found while asleep with the others? But no,
Andrii was not the man to go alive into captivity. Yet he was not to be
seen among the slaughtered Cossacks. Taras pondered deeply and went past
his men without hearing that some one had for some time been calling
him by name. “Who wants me?” he said, finally arousing himself from
his reflections. Before him stood the Jew, Yankel. “Lord colonel! lord
colonel!” said the Jew in a hasty and broken voice, as though desirous
of revealing something not utterly useless, “I have been in the city,
lord colonel!”
Taras looked at the Jew, and wondered how he had succeeded in getting
into the city. “What enemy took you there?”
“I will tell you at once,” said Yankel. “As soon as I heard the uproar
this morning, when the Cossacks began to fire, I seized my caftan and,
without stopping to put it on, ran at the top of my speed, thrusting
my arms in on the way, because I wanted to know as soon as possible the
cause of the noise and why the Cossacks were firing at dawn. I ran to
the very gate of the city, at the moment when the last of the army was
passing through. I looked, and in command of the rearguard was Cornet
Galyandovitch. He is a man well known to me; he has owed me a hundred
ducats these three years past. I ran after him, as though to claim the
debt of him, and so entered the city with them.”
“You entered the city, and wanted him to settle the debt!” said Bulba;
“and he did not order you to be hung like a dog on the spot?”
“By heavens, he did want to hang me,” replied the Jew; “his servants had
already seized me and thrown a rope about my neck. But I besought the
noble lord, and said that I would wait for the money as long as his
lordship liked, and promised to lend him more if he would only help me
to collect my debts from the other nobles; for I can tell my lord that
the noble cornet had not a ducat in his pocket, although he has farms
and estates and four castles and steppe-land that extends clear to
Schklof; but he has not a penny, any more than a Cossack. If the Breslau
Jews had not equipped him, he would never have gone on this campaign.
That was the reason he did not go to the Diet.”
“What did you do in the city? Did you see any of our people?”
“Certainly, there are many of them there: Itzok, Rachum, Samuel,
Khaivalkh, Evrei the pawnbroker--”
“May they die, the dogs!” shouted Taras in a rage. “Why do you name your
Jewish tribe to me? I ask you about our Zaporozhtzi.”
“I saw none of our Zaporozhtzi; I saw only Lord Andrii.”
“You saw Andrii!” shouted Bulba. “What is he doing? Where did you see
him? In a dungeon? in a pit? dishonoured? bound?”
“Who would dare to bind Lord Andrii? now he is so grand a knight.
I hardly recognised him. Gold on his shoulders and his belt, gold
everywhere about him; as the sun shines in spring, when every bird
twitters and sings in the orchard, so he shines, all gold. And his
horse, which the Waiwode himself gave him, is the very best; that horse
alone is worth two hundred ducats.”
Bulba was petrified. “Why has he put on foreign garments?”
“He put them on because they were finer. And he rides about, and the
others ride about, and he teaches them, and they teach him; like the
very grandest Polish noble.”
“Who forced him to do this?”
“I should not say that he had been forced. Does not my lord know that he
went over to them of his own free will?”
“Who went over?”
“Lord Andrii.”
“Went where?”
“Went over to their side; he is now a thorough foreigner.”
“You lie, you hog’s ear!”
“How is it possible that I should lie? Am I a fool, that I should lie?
Would I lie at the risk of my head? Do not I know that Jews are hung
like dogs if they lie to nobles?”
“Then it means, according to you, he has betrayed his native land and
his faith?”
“I do not say that he has betrayed anything; I merely said that he had
gone over to the other side.”
“You lie, you imp of a Jew! Such a deed was never known in a Christian
land. You are making a mistake, dog!”
“May the grass grow upon the threshold of my house if I am mistaken!
May every one spit upon the grave of my father, my mother, my father’s
father, and my mother’s father, if I am mistaken! If my lord wished I
can even tell him why he went over to them.”
“Why?”
“The Waiwode has a beautiful daughter. Holy Father! what a beauty!”
Here the Jew tried his utmost to express beauty by extending his hands,
screwing up his eyes, and twisting his mouth to one side as though
tasting something on trial.
“Well, what of that?”
“He did it all for her, he went there for her sake. When a man is in
love, then all things are the same to him; like the sole of a shoe which
you can bend in any direction if you soak it in water.”
Bulba reflected deeply. He remembered the power of weak woman--how
she had ruined many a strong man, and that this was the weak point in
Andrii’s nature--and stood for some time in one spot, as though rooted
there. “Listen, my lord, I will tell my lord all,” said the Jew. “As
soon as I heard the uproar, and saw them going through the city gate,
I seized a string of pearls, in case of any emergency. For there
are beauties and noble-women there; ‘and if there are beauties and
noble-women,’ I said to myself, ‘they will buy pearls, even if they have
nothing to eat.’ And, as soon as ever the cornet’s servants had set me
at liberty, I hastened to the Waiwode’s residence to sell my pearls. I
asked all manner of questions of the lady’s Tatar maid; the wedding
is to take place immediately, as soon as they have driven off the
Zaporozhtzi. Lord Andrii has promised to drive off the Zaporovians.”
“And you did not kill him on the spot, you devil’s brat?” shouted Bulba.
“Why should I kill him? He went over of his own free will. What is his
crime? He liked it better there, so he went there.”
“And you saw him face to face?”
“Face to face, by heavens! such a magnificent warrior! more splendid
than all the rest. God bless him, he knew me, and when I approached him
he said at once--”
“What did he say?”
“He said--First he beckoned me with his finger, and then he said,
‘Yankel!’ Lord Andrii said, ‘Yankel, tell my father, tell my brother,
tell all the Cossacks, all the Zaporozhtzi, everybody, that my father
is no longer my father, nor my brother my brother, nor my comrades my
comrades; and that I will fight them all, all.’”
“You lie, imp of a Jew!” shouted Taras, beside himself. “You lie, dog! I
will kill you, Satan! Get away from here! if not, death awaits you!” So
saying, Taras drew his sword.
The terrified Jew set off instantly, at the full speed of his thin,
shrunken legs. He ran for a long time, without looking back, through the
Cossack camp, and then far out on the deserted plain, although Taras
did not chase him at all, reasoning that it was foolish to thus vent his
rage on the first person who presented himself.
Then he recollected that he had seen Andrii on the previous night
traversing the camp with some woman, and he bowed his grey head. Still
he would not believe that so disgraceful a thing could have happened,
and that his own son had betrayed his faith and soul.
Finally he placed his men in ambush in a wood--the only one which had
not been burned by the Cossacks--whilst the Zaporozhians, foot and
horse, set out for the three gates by three different roads. One
after another the kurens turned out: Oumansky, Popovichesky, Kanevsky,
Steblikovsky, Nezamaikovsky, Gurgazif, Titarevsky, Tomischevsky. The
Pereyaslavsky kuren alone was wanting. Its Cossacks had smoked and drank
to their destruction. Some awoke to find themselves bound in the enemy’s
hands; others never woke at all but passed in their sleep into the
damp earth; and the hetman Khlib himself, minus his trousers and
accoutrements, found himself in the camp of the Lyakhs.
The uproar among the Zaporozhtzi was heard in the city. All the besieged
hastened to the ramparts, and a lively scene was presented to the
Cossacks. The handsome Polish heroes thronged on the wall. The brazen
helmets of some shone like the sun, and were adorned with feathers white
as swans. Others wore pink and blue caps, drooping over one ear, and
caftans with the sleeves thrown back, embroidered with gold. Their
weapons were richly mounted and very costly, as were their equipments.
In the front rank the Budzhakovsky colonel stood proudly in his red cap
ornamented with gold. He was a tall, stout man, and his rich and ample
caftan hardly covered him. Near the side gate stood another colonel. He
was a dried-up little man, but his small, piercing eyes gleamed sharply
from under his thick and shaggy brows, and as he turned quickly on all
sides, motioning boldly with his thin, withered hand, and giving out his
orders, it was evident that, in spite of his little body, he understood
military science thoroughly. Not far from him stood a very tall cornet,
with thick moustaches and a highly-coloured complexion--a noble fond
of strong mead and hearty revelry. Behind them were many nobles who had
equipped themselves, some with their own ducats, some from the royal
treasury, some with money obtained from the Jews, by pawning everything
they found in their ancestral castles. Many too were parasites, whom the
senators took with them to dinners for show, and who stole silver cups
from the table and the sideboard, and when the day’s display was over
mounted some noble’s coach-box and drove his horses. There were folk of
all kinds there. Sometimes they had not enough to drink, but all were
equipped for war.
The Cossack ranks stood quietly before the walls. There was no gold
about them, save where it shone on the hilt of a sword or the mountings
of a gun. The Zaporozhtzi were not given to decking themselves out
gaily for battle: their coats-of-mail and garments were plain, and their
black-bordered red-crowned caps showed darkly in the distance.
Two men--Okhrim Nasch and Mikiga Golokopuitenko--advanced from the
Zaporozhian ranks. One was quite young, the other older; both fierce in
words, and not bad specimens of Cossacks in action. They were followed
by Demid Popovitch, a strongly built Cossack who had been hanging
about the Setch for a long time, after having been in Adrianople and
undergoing a great deal in the course of his life. He had been burned,
and had escaped to the Setch with blackened head and singed moustaches.
But Popovitch recovered, let his hair grow, raised moustaches thick
and black as pitch, and was a stout fellow, according to his own biting
speech.
“Red jackets on all the army, but I should like to know what sort of men
are under them,” he cried.
“I will show you,” shouted the stout colonel from above. “I will capture
the whole of you. Surrender your guns and horses, slaves. Did you see
how I caught your men?--Bring out a Zaporozhetz on the wall for them to
see.”
And they let out a Zaporozhetz bound with stout cords.
Before them stood Khlib, the hetman of the Pereyaslavsky kuren, without
his trousers or accoutrements, just as they had captured him in his
drunken sleep. He bowed his head in shame before the Cossacks at his
nakedness, and at having been thus taken like a dog, while asleep. His
hair had turned grey in one night.
“Grieve not, Khlib: we will rescue you,” shouted the Cossacks from
below.
“Grieve not, friend,” cried the hetman Borodaty. “It is not your fault
that they caught you naked: that misfortune might happen to any man. But
it is a disgrace to them that they should have exposed you to dishonour,
and not covered your nakedness decently.”
“You seem to be a brave army when you have people who are asleep to
fight,” remarked Golokopuitenko, glancing at the ramparts.
“Wait a bit, we’ll singe your top-knots for you!” was the reply.
“I should like to see them singe our scalp locks!” said Popovitch,
prancing about before them on his horse; and then, glancing at his
comrades, he added, “Well, perhaps the Lyakhs speak the truth: if that
fat-bellied fellow leads them, they will all find a good shelter.”
“Why do you think they will find a good shelter?” asked the Cossacks,
knowing that Popovitch was probably preparing some repartee.
“Because the whole army will hide behind him; and the devil himself
couldn’t help you to reach any one with your spear through that belly of
his!”
The Cossacks laughed, some of them shaking their heads and saying, “What
a fellow Popovitch is for a joke! but now--” But the Cossacks had not
time to explain what they meant by that “now.”
“Fall back, fall back quickly from the wall!” shouted the Koschevoi,
seeing that the Lyakhs could not endure these biting words, and that the
colonel was waving his hand.
The Cossacks had hardly retreated from the wall before the grape-shot
rained down. On the ramparts all was excitement, and the grey-haired
Waiwode himself appeared on horseback. The gates opened and the garrison
sallied forth. In the van came hussars in orderly ranks, behind them the
horsemen in armour, and then the heroes in brazen helmets; after whom
rode singly the highest nobility, each man accoutred as he pleased.
These haughty nobles would not mingle in the ranks with others, and
such of them as had no commands rode apart with their own immediate
following. Next came some more companies, and after these the cornet,
then more files of men, and the stout colonel; and in the rear of the
whole force the little colonel.
“Keep them from forming in line!” shouted the Koschevoi; “let all the
kurens attack them at once! Block the other gate! Titarevsky kuren, fall
on one flank! Dyadovsky kuren, charge on the other! Attack them in
the rear, Kukubenko and Palivod! Check them, break them!” The Cossacks
attacked on all sides, throwing the Lyakhs into confusion and getting
confused themselves. They did not even give the foe time to fire, it
came to swords and spears at once. All fought hand to hand, and each man
had an opportunity to distinguish himself.
Demid Popovitch speared three soldiers, and struck two of the highest
nobles from their saddles, saying, “Good horses! I have long wanted
just such horses.” And he drove the horses far afield, shouting to the
Cossacks standing about to catch them. Then he rushed again into the
fray, fell upon the dismounted nobles, slew one, and throwing his lasso
round the neck of the other, tied him to his saddle and dragged him over
the plain, after having taken from him his sword from its rich hilt and
removed from his girdle a whole bag of ducats.
Kobita, a good Cossack, though still very young, attacked one of the
bravest men in the Polish army, and they fought long together. They
grappled, and the Cossack mastering his foe, and throwing him down,
stabbed him in the breast with his sharp Turkish knife. But he did not
look out for himself, and a bullet struck him on the temple. The man who
struck him down was the most distinguished of the nobles, the handsomest
scion of an ancient and princely race. Like a stately poplar, he
bestrode his dun-coloured steed, and many heroic deeds did he perform.
He cut two Cossacks in twain. Fedor Korzh, the brave Cossack, he
overthrew together with his horse, shooting the steed and picking off
the rider with his spear. Many heads and hands did he hew off; and slew
Kobita by sending a bullet through his temple.
“There’s a man I should like to measure strength with!” shouted
Kukubenko, the hetman of the Nezamaikovsky kuren. Spurring his horse,
he dashed straight at the Pole’s back, shouting loudly, so that all who
stood near shuddered at the unearthly yell. The boyard tried to wheel
his horse suddenly and face him, but his horse would not obey him;
scared by the terrible cry, it bounded aside, and the Lyakh received
Kukubenko’s fire. The ball struck him in the shoulder-blade, and he
rolled from his saddle. Even then he did not surrender and strove to
deal his enemy a blow, but his hand was weak. Kukubenko, taking his
heavy sword in both hands, thrust it through his mouth. The sword,
breaking out two teeth, cut the tongue in twain, pierced the windpipe,
and penetrated deep into the earth, nailing him to the ground. His
noble blood, red as viburnum berries beside the river, welled forth in
a stream staining his yellow, gold-embroidered caftan. But Kukubenko had
already left him, and was forcing his way, with his Nezamaikovsky kuren,
towards another group.
“He has left untouched rich plunder,” said Borodaty, hetman of the
Oumansky kuren, leaving his men and going to the place where the
nobleman killed by Kukubenko lay. “I have killed seven nobles with my
own hand, but such spoil I never beheld on any one.” Prompted by greed,
Borodaty bent down to strip off the rich armour, and had already secured
the Turkish knife set with precious stones, and taken from the foe’s
belt a purse of ducats, and from his breast a silver case containing a
maiden’s curl, cherished tenderly as a love-token. But he heeded not how
the red-faced cornet, whom he had already once hurled from the saddle
and given a good blow as a remembrance, flew upon him from behind. The
cornet swung his arm with all his might, and brought his sword down upon
Borodaty’s bent neck. Greed led to no good: the head rolled off, and the
body fell headless, sprinkling the earth with blood far and wide; whilst
the Cossack soul ascended, indignant and surprised at having so soon
quitted so stout a frame. The cornet had not succeeded in seizing the
hetman’s head by its scalp-lock, and fastening it to his saddle, before
an avenger had arrived.
As a hawk floating in the sky, sweeping in great circles with his mighty
wings, suddenly remains poised in air, in one spot, and thence darts
down like an arrow upon the shrieking quail, so Taras’s son Ostap darted
suddenly upon the cornet and flung a rope about his neck with one cast.
The cornet’s red face became a still deeper purple as the cruel
noose compressed his throat, and he tried to use his pistol; but his
convulsively quivering hand could not aim straight, and the bullet flew
wild across the plain. Ostap immediately unfastened a silken cord which
the cornet carried at his saddle bow to bind prisoners, and having with
it bound him hand and foot, attached the cord to his saddle and dragged
him across the field, calling on all the Cossacks of the Oumansky kuren
to come and render the last honours to their hetman.
When the Oumantzi heard that the hetman of their kuren, Borodaty, was
no longer among the living, they deserted the field of battle, rushed to
secure his body, and consulted at once as to whom they should select as
their leader. At length they said, “But why consult? It is impossible to
find a better leader than Bulba’s son, Ostap; he is younger than all
the rest of us, it is true; but his judgment is equal to that of the
eldest.”
Ostap, taking off his cap, thanked his comrades for the honour, and did
not decline it on the ground of youth or inexperience, knowing that war
time is no fitting season for that; but instantly ordered them straight
to the fray, and soon showed them that not in vain had they chosen him
as hetman. The Lyakhs felt that the matter was growing too hot for them,
and retreated across the plain in order to form again at its other
end. But the little colonel signalled to the reserve of four hundred,
stationed at the gate, and these rained shot upon the Cossacks. To
little purpose, however, their shot only taking effect on the Cossack
oxen, which were gazing wildly upon the battle. The frightened oxen,
bellowing with fear, dashed into the camp, breaking the line of waggons
and trampling on many. But Taras, emerging from ambush at the moment
with his troops, headed off the infuriated cattle, which, startled by
his yell, swooped down upon the Polish troops, overthrew the cavalry,
and crushed and dispersed them all.
“Thank you, oxen!” cried the Zaporozhtzi; “you served us on the march,
and now you serve us in war.” And they attacked the foe with
fresh vigour killing many of the enemy. Several distinguished
themselves--Metelitza and Schilo, both of the Pisarenki, Vovtuzenko, and
many others. The Lyakhs seeing that matters were going badly for them
flung away their banners and shouted for the city gates to be opened.
With a screeching sound the iron-bound gates swung open and received the
weary and dust-covered riders, flocking like sheep into a fold. Many of
the Zaporozhtzi would have pursued them, but Ostap stopped his Oumantzi,
saying, “Farther, farther from the walls, brother gentles! it is
not well to approach them too closely.” He spoke truly; for from the
ramparts the foe rained and poured down everything which came to
hand, and many were struck. At that moment the Koschevoi came up and
congratulated him, saying, “Here is the new hetman leading the army like
an old one!” Old Bulba glanced round to see the new hetman, and beheld
Ostap sitting on his horse at the head of the Oumantzi, his cap on one
side and the hetman’s staff in his hand. “Who ever saw the like!” he
exclaimed; and the old man rejoiced, and began to thank all the Oumantzi
for the honour they had conferred upon his son.
The Cossacks retired, preparing to go into camp; but the Lyakhs showed
themselves again on the city ramparts with tattered mantles. Many rich
caftans were spotted with blood, and dust covered the brazen helmets.
“Have you bound us?” cried the Zaporozhtzi to them from below.
“We will do so!” shouted the big colonel from above, showing them a
rope. The weary, dust-covered warriors ceased not to threaten, nor the
most zealous on both sides to exchange fierce remarks.
At length all dispersed. Some, weary with battle, stretched themselves
out to rest; others sprinkled their wounds with earth, and bound them
with kerchiefs and rich stuffs captured from the enemy. Others, who were
fresher, began to inspect the corpses and to pay them the last honours.
They dug graves with swords and spears, brought earth in their caps and
the skirts of their garments, laid the Cossacks’ bodies out decently,
and covered them up in order that the ravens and eagles might not claw
out their eyes. But binding the bodies of the Lyakhs, as they came
to hand, to the tails of horses, they let these loose on the plain,
pursuing them and beating them for some time. The infuriated horses flew
over hill and hollow, through ditch and brook, dragging the bodies of
the Poles, all covered with blood and dust, along the ground.
All the kurens sat down in circles in the evening, and talked for a long
time of their deeds, and of the achievements which had fallen to the
share of each, for repetition by strangers and posterity. It was long
before they lay down to sleep; and longer still before old Taras,
meditating what it might signify that Andrii was not among the foe,
lay down. Had the Judas been ashamed to come forth against his own
countrymen? or had the Jew been deceiving him, and had he simply gone
into the city against his will? But then he recollected that there were
no bounds to a woman’s influence upon Andrii’s heart; he felt ashamed,
and swore a mighty oath to himself against the fair Pole who had
bewitched his son. And he would have kept his oath. He would not have
looked at her beauty; he would have dragged her forth by her thick and
splendid hair; he would have trailed her after him over all the plain,
among all the Cossacks. Her beautiful shoulders and bosom, white as
fresh-fallen snow upon the mountain-tops, would have been crushed to
earth and covered with blood and dust. Her lovely body would have been
torn to pieces. But Taras, who did not foresee what God prepares for
man on the morrow, began to grow drowsy, and finally fell asleep. The
Cossacks still talked among themselves; and the sober sentinel stood all
night long beside the fire without blinking and keeping a good look out
on all sides.