Full Online Books
BOOK CATEGORIES
Authors Authors Short Stories Short Stories Long Stories Long Stories Funny Stories Funny Stories Love Stories Love Stories Stories For Kids Stories For Kids Poems Poems Essays Essays Nonfictions Nonfictions Plays Plays Folktales Folktales Fairy Tales Fairy Tales Fables Fables Learning Kitchen Learning Kitchen
LINKS
Valid XHTML 1.0 Transitional Free Classified Website Without Registration Free Classified Website Daniel Company
Twitter Twitter Add book
donate
Full Online Book HomeLong StoriesThe Cossacks - Chapter 8
Famous Authors (View All Authors)
The Cossacks - Chapter 8 Post by :sdj_inc Category :Long Stories Author :Leo Tolstoy Date :December 2010 Read :2800

Click below to download : The Cossacks - Chapter 8 (Format : PDF)

The Cossacks - Chapter 8

It was quite dark when Uncle Eroshka and the three Cossacks, in
their cloaks and shouldering their guns, left the cordon and went
towards the place on the Terek where they were to lie in ambush.
Nazarka did not want to go at all, but Lukashka shouted at him and
they soon started. After they had gone a few steps in silence the
Cossacks turned aside from the ditch and went along a path almost
hidden by reeds till they reached the river. On its bank lay a
thick black log cast up by the water. The reeds around it had been
recently beaten down.

'Shall we lie here?' asked Nazarka.

'Why not?' answered Lukashka. 'Sit down here and I'll be back in a
minute. I'll only show Daddy where to go.'

'This is the best place; here we can see and not be seen,' said
Ergushov, 'so it's here we'll lie. It's a first-rate place!'

Nazarka and Ergushov spread out their cloaks and settled down
behind the log, while Lukashka went on with Uncle Eroshka.

'It's not far from here. Daddy,' said Lukashka, stepping softly in
front of the old man; 'I'll show you where they've been--I'm the
only one that knows. Daddy.'

'Show me! You're a fine fellow, a regular Snatcher!' replied the
old man, also whispering.

Having gone a few steps Lukashka stopped, stooped down over a
puddle, and whistled. 'That's where they come to drink, d'you
see?' He spoke in a scarcely audible voice, pointing to fresh
hoof-prints.

'Christ bless you,' answered the old man. 'The boar will be in the
hollow beyond the ditch,' he added. Til watch, and you can go.'

Lukashka pulled his cloak up higher and walked back alone,
throwing swift glances now to the left at the wall of reeds, now
to the Terek rushing by below the bank. 'I daresay he's watching
or creeping along somewhere,' thought he of a possible Chechen
hillsman. Suddenly a loud rustling and a splash in the water made
him start and seize his musket. From under the bank a boar leapt
up--his dark outline showing for a moment against the glassy
surface of the water and then disappearing among the reeds.
Lukashka pulled out his gun and aimed, but before he could fire
the boar had disappeared in the thicket. Lukashka spat with
vexation and went on. On approaching the ambuscade he halted again
and whistled softly. His whistle was answered and he stepped up to
his comrades.

Nazarka, all curled up, was already asleep. Ergushov sat with his
legs crossed and moved slightly to make room for Lukashka.

'How jolly it is to sit here! It's really a good place,' said he.
'Did you take him there?'

'Showed him where,' answered Lukashka, spreading out his cloak.
'But what a big boar I roused just now close to the water! I
expect it was the very one! You must have heard the crash?'

'I did hear a beast crashing through. I knew at once it was a
beast. I thought to myself: "Lukashka has roused a beast,"'
Ergushov said, wrapping himself up in his cloak. 'Now I'll go to
sleep,' he added. 'Wake me when the cocks crow. We must have
discipline. I'll lie down and have a nap, and then you will have a
nap and I'll watch--that's the way.'

'Luckily I don't want to sleep,' answered Lukashka.

The night was dark, warm, and still. Only on one side of the sky
the stars were shining, the other and greater part was overcast by
one huge cloud stretching from the mountaintops. The black cloud,
blending in the absence of any wind with the mountains, moved
slowly onwards, its curved edges sharply denned against the deep
starry sky. Only in front of him could the Cossack discern the
Terek and the distance beyond. Behind and on both sides he was
surrounded by a wall of reeds. Occasionally the reeds would sway
and rustle against one another apparently without cause. Seen from
down below, against the clear part of the sky, their waving tufts
looked like the feathery branches of trees. Close in front at his
very feet was the bank, and at its base the rushing torrent. A
little farther on was the moving mass of glassy brown water which
eddied rhythmically along the bank and round the shallows. Farther
still, water, banks, and cloud all merged together in impenetrable
gloom. Along the surface of the water floated black shadows, in
which the experienced eyes of the Cossack detected trees carried
down by the current. Only very rarely sheet-lightning, mirrored in
the water as in a black glass, disclosed the sloping bank
opposite. The rhythmic sounds of night--the rustling of the reeds,
the snoring of the Cossacks, the hum of mosquitoes, and the
rushing water, were every now and then broken by a shot fired in
the distance, or by the gurgling of water when a piece of bank
slipped down, the splash of a big fish, or the crashing of an
animal breaking through the thick undergrowth in the wood. Once an
owl flew past along the Terek, flapping one wing against the other
rhythmically at every second beat. Just above the Cossack's head
it turned towards the wood and then, striking its wings no longer
after every other flap but at every flap, it flew to an old plane
tree where it rustled about for a long time before settling down
among the branches. At every one of these unexpected sounds the
watching Cossack listened intently, straining his hearing, and
screwing up his eyes while he deliberately felt for his musket.

The greater part of the night was past. The black cloud that had
moved westward revealed the clear starry sky from under its torn
edge, and the golden upturned crescent of the moon shone above the
mountains with a reddish light. The cold began to be penetrating.
Nazarka awoke, spoke a little, and fell asleep again. Lukashka
feeling bored got up, drew the knife from his dagger-handle and
began to fashion his stick into a ramrod. His head was full of the
Chechens who lived over there in the mountains, and of how their
brave lads came across and were not afraid of the Cossacks, and
might even now be crossing the river at some other spot. He thrust
himself out of his hiding-place and looked along the river but
could see nothing. And as he continued looking out at intervals
upon the river and at the opposite bank, now dimly distinguishable
from the water in the faint moonlight, he no longer thought about
the Chechens but only of when it would be time to wake his
comrades, and of going home to the village. In the village he
imagined Dunayka, his 'little soul', as the Cossacks call a man's
mistress, and thought of her with vexation. Silvery mists, a sign
of coming morning, glittered white above the water, and not far
from him young eagles were whistling and flapping their wings. At
last the crowing of a cock reached him from the distant village,
followed by the long-sustained note of another, which was again
answered by yet other voices.

'Time to wake them,' thought Lukashka, who had finished his ramrod
and felt his eyes growing heavy. Turning to his comrades he
managed to make out which pair of legs belonged to whom, when it
suddenly seemed to him that he heard something splash on the other
side of the Terek. He turned again towards the horizon beyond the
hills, where day was breaking under the upturned crescent, glanced
at the outline of the opposite bank, at the Terek, and at the now
distinctly visible driftwood upon it. For one instant it seemed to
him that he was moving and that the Terek with the drifting wood
remained stationary. Again he peered out. One large black log with
a branch particularly attracted his attention. The tree was
floating in a strange way right down the middle of the stream,
neither rocking nor whirling. It even appeared not to be floating
altogether with the current, but to be crossing it in the
direction of the shallows. Lukashka stretching out his neck
watched it intently. The tree floated to the shallows, stopped,
and shifted in a peculiar manner. Lukashka thought he saw an arm
stretched out from beneath the tree. 'Supposing I killed an abrek
all by myself!' he thought, and seized his gun with a swift,
unhurried movement, putting up his gun-rest, placing the gun upon
it, and holding it noiselessly in position. Cocking the trigger,
with bated breath he took aim, still peering out intently. 'I
won't wake them,' he thought. But his heart began beating so fast
that he remained motionless, listening. Suddenly the trunk gave a
plunge and again began to float across the stream towards our
bank. 'Only not to miss ...' thought he, and now by the faint
light of the moon he caught a glimpse of a Tartar's head in front
of the floating wood. He aimed straight at the head which appeared
to be quite near--just at the end of his rifle's barrel. He
glanced cross. 'Right enough it is an abrek! he thought joyfully,
and suddenly rising to his knees he again took aim. Having found
the sight, barely visible at the end of the long gun, he said: 'In
the name of the Father and of the Son,' in the Cossack way learnt
in his childhood, and pulled the trigger. A flash of lightning lit
up for an instant the reeds and the water, and the sharp, abrupt
report of the shot was carried across the river, changing into a
prolonged roll somewhere in the far distance. The piece of
driftwood now floated not across, but with the current, rocking
and whirling.

'Stop, I say!' exclaimed Ergushov, seizing his musket and raising
himself behind the log near which he was lying.

'Shut up, you devil!' whispered Lukashka, grinding his teeth.
'abreks!'

'Whom have you shot?' asked Nazarka. 'Who was it, Lukashka?'

Lukashka did not answer. He was reloading his gun and watching the
floating wood. A little way off it stopped on a sand-bank, and
from behind it something large that rocked in the water came into
view.

'What did you shoot? Why don't you speak?' insisted the Cossacks.

'Abreks, I tell you!' said Lukashka.

'Don't humbug! Did the gun go off? ...'

'I've killed an abrek, that's what I fired at,' muttered Lukashka
in a voice choked by emotion, as he jumped to his feet. 'A man was
swimming...' he said, pointing to the sandbank. 'I killed him.
Just look there.'

'Have done with your humbugging!' said Ergushov again, rubbing his
eyes.

'Have done with what? Look there,' said Lukashka, seizing him by
the shoulders and pulling him with such force that Ergushov
groaned.

He looked in the direction in which Lukashka pointed, and
discerning a body immediately changed his tone.

'O Lord! But I say, more will come! I tell you the truth,' said he
softly, and began examining his musket. 'That was a scout swimming
across: either the others are here already or are not far off on
the other side--I tell you for sure!' Lukashka was unfastening his
belt and taking off his Circassian coat.

'What are you up to, you idiot?' exclaimed Ergushov. 'Only show
yourself and you've lost all for nothing, I tell you true! If
you've killed him he won't escape. Let me have a little powder for
my musket-pan--you have some? Nazarka, you go back to the cordon
and look alive; but don't go along the bank or you'll be killed--I
tell you true.'

'Catch me going alone! Go yourself!' said Nazarka angrily.

Having taken off his coat, Lukashka went down to the bank.

'Don't go in, I tell you!' said Ergushov, putting some powder on
the pan. 'Look, he's not moving. I can see. It's nearly morning;
wait till they come from the cordon. You go, Nazarka. You're
afraid! Don't be afraid, I tell you.'

'Luke, I say, Lukashka! Tell us how you did it!' said Nazarka.

Lukashka changed his mind about going into the water just then.
'Go quick to the cordon and I will watch. Tell the Cossacks to
send out the patrol. If the ABREKS are on this side they must be
caught,' said he.

'That's what I say. They'll get off,' said Ergushov, rising.
'True, they must be caught!'

Ergushov and Nazarka rose and, crossing themselves, started off
for the cordon--not along the riverbank but breaking their way
through the brambles to reach a path in the wood.

'Now mind, Lukashka--they may cut you down here, so you'd best
keep a sharp look-out, I tell you!'

'Go along; I know,' muttered Lukashka; and having examined his gun
again he sat down behind the log.

He remained alone and sat gazing at the shallows and listening for
the Cossacks; but it was some distance to the cordon and he was
tormented by impatience. He kept thinking that the other ABREKS
who were with the one he had killed would escape. He was vexed
with the ABREKS who were going to escape just as he had been with
the boar that had escaped the evening before. He glanced round and
at the opposite bank, expecting every moment to see a man, and
having arranged his gun-rest he was ready to fire. The idea that
he might himself be killed never entered his head.

If you like this book please share to your friends :
NEXT BOOKS

The Cossacks - Chapter 9 The Cossacks - Chapter 9

The Cossacks - Chapter 9
It was growing light. The Chechen's body which was gently rockingin the shallow water was now clearly visible. Suddenly the reedsrustled not far from Luke and he heard steps and saw the featherytops of the reeds moving. He set his gun at full cock andmuttered: 'In the name of the Father and of the Son,' but when thecock clicked the sound of steps ceased.'Hallo, Cossacks! Don't kill your Daddy!' said a deep bass voicecalmly; and moving the reeds apart Daddy Eroshka came up close toLuke.'I very nearly killed you, by God I did!' said Lukashka.'What have you shot?' asked the old
PREVIOUS BOOKS

The Cossacks - Chapter 7 The Cossacks - Chapter 7

The Cossacks - Chapter 7
The sun had already set and the shades of night were rapidlyspreading from the edge of the wood. The Cossacks finished theirtask round the cordon and gathered in the hut for supper. Only theold man still stayed under the plane tree watching for the vultureand pulling the string tied to the falcon's leg, but though avulture was really perching on the plane tree it declined to swoopdown on the lure. Lukashka, singing one song after another, wasleisurely placing nets among the very thickest brambles to trappheasants. In spite of his tall stature and big hands every kindof work, both rough and
NEXT 10 BOOKS | PREVIOUS 10 BOOKS | RANDOM 10 BOOKS
LEAVE A COMMENT