Zhilin began to understand their language. Some of the Tartars got used to him. When they needed him, they called, "Ivan, Ivan!" but others looked at him awry, as at an animal.
The red Tartar did not like Zhilin. Whenever he saw him, he frowned and turned away, or called him names. There was also an old man; he did not live in the village, but came from farther down the mountain. Zhilin saw him only when he came to the mosque, to pray to G.o.d. He was a small man; his cap was wrapped with a white towel. His beard and moustache were clipped, and they were as white as down; his face was wrinkled and as red as a brick. His nose was hooked, like a hawk"s beak, and his eyes were gray and mean-looking; of teeth he had only two tusks. He used to walk in his turban, leaning on a crutch, and looking around him like a wolf. Whenever he saw Zhilin, he grunted and turned away.
One day Zhilin went down-hill, to see where the old man was living. He walked down the road, and saw a little garden, with a stone fence, and inside the fence were cherry and apricot trees, and stood a hut with a flat roof. He came closer to it, and he saw beehives woven from straw, and bees were swarming around and buzzing. The old man was kneeling, and doing something to a hive. Zhilin got up higher, to get a good look, and made a noise with his stocks. The old man looked around and shrieked; he pulled the pistol out from his belt and fired at Zhilin. He had just time to hide behind a rock.
The old man went to the master to complain about Zhilin. The master called up Zhilin, and laughed, and asked:
"Why did you go to the old man?"
"I have not done him any harm," he said. "I just wanted to see how he lives."
The master told the old man that. But the old man was angry, and hissed, and rattled something off; he showed his teeth and waved his hand threateningly at Zhilin.
Zhilin did not understand it all; but he understood that the old man was telling his master to kill all the Russians, and not to keep them in the village. The old man went away.
Zhilin asked his master what kind of a man that old Tartar was. The master said:
"He is a big man! He used to be the first dzhigit: he killed a lot of Russians, and he was rich. He had three wives and eight sons. All of them lived in the same village. The Russians came, destroyed the village, and killed seven of his sons. One son was left alive, and he surrendered himself to the Russians. The old man went and surrendered himself, too, to the Russians. He stayed with them three months, found his son there, and killed him, and then he ran away. Since then he has stopped fighting. He has been to Mecca, to pray to G.o.d, and that is why he wears the turban. He who has been to Mecca is called a Hadji and puts on a turban. He has no use for you fellows. He tells me to kill you; but I cannot kill you,--I have paid for you; and then, Ivan, I like you.
I not only have no intention of killing you, but I would not let you go back, if I had not given my word to you." He laughed as he said that, and added in Russian: "You, Ivan, good, me, Abdul, good!"
IV.
Zhilin lived thus for a month. In the daytime he walked around the village and made things with his hands, and when night came, and all was quiet in the village, he began to dig in the shed. It was difficult to dig on account of the rocks, but he sawed the stones with the file, and made a hole through which he meant to crawl later. "First I must find out what direction to go in," he thought; "but the Tartars will not tell me anything."
So he chose a time when his master was away; he went after dinner back of the village, up-hill, where he could see the place. But when his master went away, he told his little boy to keep an eye on Zhilin and to follow him everywhere. So the boy ran after Zhilin, and said:
"Don"t go! Father said that you should not go there. I will call the people!"
Zhilin began to persuade him.
"I do not want to go far," he said; "I just want to walk up the mountain: I want to find an herb with which to cure you people. Come with me; I cannot run away with the stocks. To-morrow I will make you a bow and arrows."
He persuaded the boy, and they went together. As he looked up the mountain, it looked near, but with the stocks it was hard to walk; he walked and walked, and climbed the mountain with difficulty. Zhilin sat down and began to look at the place. To the south of the shed there was a ravine, and there a herd of horses was grazing, and in a hollow could be seen another village. At that village began a steeper mountain, and beyond that mountain there was another mountain. Between the mountains could be seen a forest, and beyond it again the mountains, rising higher and higher. Highest of all, there were white mountains, capped with snow, just like sugar loaves. And one snow mountain stood with its cap above all the rest. To the east and the west there were just such mountains; here and there smoke rose from villages in the clefts.
"Well," he thought, "that is all their side."
He began to look to the Russian side. At his feet was a brook and his village, and all around were little gardens. At the brook women were sitting,--they looked as small as dolls,--and washing the linen. Beyond the village and below it there was a mountain, and beyond that, two other mountains, covered with forests; between the two mountains could be seen an even spot, and on that plain, far, far away, it looked as though smoke were settling. Zhilin recalled where the sun used to rise and set when he was at home in the fortress. He looked down there,--sure enough, that was the valley where the Russian fortress ought to be.
There, then, between those two mountains, he had to run.
The sun was beginning to go down. The snow-capped mountains changed from white to violet; it grew dark in the black mountains; vapour arose from the clefts, and the valley, where our fortress no doubt was, gleamed in the sunset as though on fire. Zhilin began to look sharply,--something was quivering in the valley, like smoke rising from chimneys. He was sure now that it must be the Russian fortress.
It grew late; he could hear the mullah call; the flock was being driven, and the cows lowed. The boy said to him, "Come!" but Zhilin did not feel like leaving.
They returned home. "Well," thought Zhilin, "now I know the place, and I must run." He wanted to run that same night. The nights were dark,--the moon was on the wane. Unfortunately the Tartars returned toward evening.
At other times they returned driving cattle before them, and then they were jolly. But this time they did not drive home anything, but brought back a dead Tartar, a red-haired companion of theirs. They came back angry, and all gathered to bury him. Zhilin, too, went out to see. They wrapped the dead man in linen, without putting him in a coffin, and carried him under the plane-trees beyond the village, and placed him on the gra.s.s. The mullah came, and the old men gathered around him, their caps wrapped with towels, and took off their shoes and seated themselves in a row on their heels, in front of the dead man.
At their head was the mullah, and then three old men in turbans, sitting in a row, and behind them other Tartars. They sat, and bent their heads, and kept silence. They were silent for quite awhile. Then the mullah raised his head, and said:
"Allah!" (That means "G.o.d.") He said that one word, and again they lowered their heads and kept silence for a long time; they sat without stirring. Again the mullah raised his head:
"Allah!" and all repeated, "Allah!" and again they were silent. The dead man lay on the gra.s.s, and did not stir, and they sat about him like the dead. Not one of them stirred. One could hear only the leaves on the plane-tree rustling in the breeze. Then the mullah said a prayer, and all got up, lifted the dead body, and carried it away. They took it to a grave,--not a simple grave, but dug under like a cave. They took the dead man under his arms and by his legs, bent him over, let him down softly, pushed him under in a sitting posture, and fixed his arms on his body.
A Nogay dragged up a lot of green reeds; they bedded the grave with it, then quickly filled it with dirt, levelled it up, and put a stone up straight at the head of it. They tramped down the earth, and again sat down in a row near the grave. They were silent for a long time.
"Allah, Allah, Allah!" They sighed and got up.
A red-haired Tartar distributed money to the old men; then he got up, took a whip, struck himself three times on his forehead, and went home.
Next morning Zhilin saw the red Tartar take a mare out of the village, and three Tartars followed him. They went outside the village; then the red-haired Tartar took off his coat, rolled up his sleeves,--he had immense arms,--and took out his dagger and whetted it on a steel. The Tartars jerked up the mare"s head, and the red-haired man walked over to her, cut her throat, threw her down, and began to flay her,--to rip the skin open with his fists. Then came women and girls, and they began to wash the inside and the entrails. Then they chopped up the mare and dragged the flesh to the house. And the whole village gathered at the house of the red-haired Tartar to celebrate the dead man"s wake.
For three days did they eat the horse-flesh, drink buza, and remember the dead man. On the fourth day Zhilin saw them get ready to go somewhere for a dinner. They brought horses, dressed themselves up, and went away,--about ten men, and the red Tartar with them; Abdul was the only one who was left at home. The moon was just beginning to increase, and the nights were still dark.
"Well," thought Zhilin, "to-night I must run," and he told Kostylin so.
But Kostylin was timid.
"How can we run? We do not know the road."
"I know it."
"But we cannot reach it in the night."
"If we do not, we shall stay for the night in the woods. I have a lot of cakes with me. You certainly do not mean to stay. It would be all right if they sent the money; but suppose they cannot get together so much.
The Tartars are mean now, because the Russians have killed one of theirs. I understand they want to kill us now."
Kostylin thought awhile:
"Well, let us go!"
V.
Zhilin crept into the hole and dug it wider, so that Kostylin could get through; and then they sat still and waited for everything to quiet down in the village.
When all grew quiet, Zhilin crawled through the hole and got out. He whispered to Kostylin to crawl out. Kostylin started to come out, but he caught a stone with his foot, and it made a noise. Now their master had a dappled watch-dog, and he was dreadfully mean; his name was Ulyashin.
Zhilin had been feeding him before. When Ulyashin heard the voice, he began to bark and rushed forward, and with him other dogs. Zhilin gave a low whistle and threw a piece of cake to the dog, and the dog recognized him and wagged his tail and stopped barking.
The master heard it, and he called out from the hut, "Hait, hait, Ulyashin!"
But Zhilin was scratching Ulyashin behind his ears; so the dog was silent and rubbed against his legs and wagged his tail.
They sat awhile around the corner. All was silent; nothing could be heard but the sheep coughing in the hut corner, and the water rippling down the pebbles. It was dark; the stars stood high in the heaven; the young moon shone red above the mountain, and its horns were turned upward. In the clefts the mist looked as white as milk.
Zhilin got up and said to his companion:
"Now, my friend, let us start!"
They started. They had made but a few steps, when they heard the mullah sing out on the roof: "Allah besmillah! Ilrakhman!" That meant that the people were going to the mosque. They sat down again, hiding behind a wall. They sat for a long time, waiting for the people to pa.s.s by. Again everything was quiet.