IX.
Nobody in the town knew that one-half of the Zaporoghians had gone in pursuit of the Tartars. The sentries on the tower of the town hall had indeed noticed that part of the waggons had been drawn behind the forest, but they thought that the Cossacks had prepared an ambuscade: the French engineer was of the same opinion. Meanwhile, the words of the Ivoschevoï proved true, and victuals began to be scarce in the town. As was usual in old times, they had not calculated the number of troops and the allowance to be made to them. A sally was tried, but one-half of the daring fellows were killed on the spot by the Cossacks, and the other was driven back into the town with no result. The Jews however, profited by this sally, and ferreted out everything, whither and wherefore the Zaporoghians were gone, and with which of the chiefs, also which of the koorens, in what number, and how many were left behind, and what they intended to do; in a word, some minutes had hardly elapsed when everything was known in the town. The colonels took courage, and prepared to give battle. Tarass perceived this by the movement and noise in the town, and, accordingly, busily occupied himself in forming the troops and giving orders; he divided the koorens into three encampments, which he surrounded with waggons by way of fortification, a mode of entrenchment in which the Zaporoghians were never conquered. He sent two koorens into ambuscade, ordered sharp stakes, broken weapons, and stumps of spears to be scattered over part of the field, intending to drive the enemy’s cavalry to that locality when the opportunity should present itself. And when all his orders had been executed, he harangued the Cossacks, not in order to encourage them, or to heighten their spirits, for he knew them to be spirited enough, but simply because he wished to say what weighed on his own heart.
“I wish to tell you, gentlemen, what our comradeship is. You have heard from your fathers and grandfathers how highly esteemed our country has been, how it caused itself to be honoured by the Greeks, how the city of the Caesars1 paid ducats to it, how rich its towns were, how beautiful its churches, what men were its sovereigns—sovereigns of Russian pedigree, its own bosom sovereigns, and no Popish heretics. All this have the misbelievers destroyed; everything have they laid waste. We remained orphans, and our country like ourselves has been bereft too, like a widow after the loss of a mighty husband! This was the time, comrades, when we held out our hands to one another to be brothers! This is the foundation of our brotherhood! No ties are more holy than those of comradeship. The father loves his child, the mother loves her child, the child loves its father and mother; but this is no wonder. The brute loves its cub, too! but man alone can make to himself relations by the relationship of the heart, without that of blood! There have been comrades in other countries, but such comrades as are in our Russian country, such, I say, have never existed elsewhere. More than one of you have been dragged away into foreign countries; there, too, you have seen men! They also are God’s creatures; with them also did you speak as with your own countrymen; but when you had to tell them what you felt in the inmost recesses of your hearts, then you saw the difference! Clever men are they, but not like our countrymen! men, also, but not like us! No, brothers, to love as a Russian heart loves—not to love with your mind, or anything else, but to love with all that God has given us, with all your being, with all, all,” said Tarass; and he waved his arm, and shook his gray head, and jerked his mustachios, and then went on: “To love in such a manner, nobody but Russians can love. I know that baseness has found its way into our country; many think only about having heaps of corn and hay, herds of horses, and of preserving untouched in their cellars their sealed casks of mead; many ape the devil knows what customs of misbelievers, and are ashamed of their native speech, they avoid meeting their countrymen, they sell them, as one sells brutes in the market. Higher than any brotherhood do they value the favour of a foreign king, no, not merely of a king, but even the base favour of a Polish magnate, who tramples on their faces with his yellow boots. But yet the basest of them, be he base as man can be, be he all besmeared with dirt and flattery, even he, brothers, has some grain of Russian feeling in his breast; he will wake up at some time, and the poor fellow will wring his hands, he will tear his hair and curse his base life, and be ready by torments of every description to redeem it. Let every one of them know what comradeship means in our Russian country. If it has come to that point, that we must die, well then, let us die as none of them may ever die! no, not one! their mouse-like nature would not dare to confront such death!”
Thus spoke the ataman, and as he ended his speech, he still shook his head, grown silver-gray in Cossack feats; strongly did the speech impress all who stood there, and straight to their hearts did it go; even the oldest stood motionless in their ranks, their gray heads bent down towards the ground, and a tear slowly rolled from their old eyes; slowly did they brush it away with their sleeves, and then all, as with one accord, waved their hands at once and shook their heads.
Old Tarass, it would seem, had struck upon many recollections of those best feelings which throng into the hearts of men whose spirits have been tried by sorrow, by hard labour, by valour, and by every possible misfortune; or of men, who, if even unacquainted with hardships, anticipate them in their pure pearl-like souls, and afford promise of perpetual joy to the old parents who gave them life.
Meanwhile, the enemy’s army was already emerging from the town, drums were beating, trumpets sounding, and the officers, surrounded by numberless servants, were already riding out of the gate, their hands haughtily resting on their hips. The stout colonel was giving his orders. Now, they briskly attacked the Cossacks’ encampment, threatening, aiming their guns, rolling their eyes, and glittering in their brass armour. As soon as the Cossacks saw they had come within gunshot, they sent all at once a volley of bullets, and without any interruption poured forth shot after shot from their long barrelled guns. Far away, in all the surrounding fields and pastures, did the thundering crash resound, forming a continuous roar; smoke spread over all the field, and the Zaporoghians went on firing without ever pausing to take breath; the rear-ranks did nothing but load the guns, which they passed to the foremost ranks; and the enemy marvelled, and could not understand how the Cossacks managed to shoot without loading their guns. Already the denseness of the smoke prevented them from seeing how one here, another there, fell in the ranks; but the Poles felt that the volleys of bullets were thick, and that the fight would prove serious; and as they drew back to get out of the smoke, and looked at their ranks, many were those whom they found missing; while the Cossacks had not lost more than some two or three men out of every hundred. And still the Cossacks went on firing, giving not a moment of respite. Even the foreign engineer marvelled at their tactics, which he had never witnessed before, and said, before all who stood near him, “They are clever fellows, these Zaporoghians! that is a way of fighting which ought to be followed in other countries!” and he advised that no time should be lost in turning the cannon against their encampment. Heavy was the roar of the wide-throated iron guns; far did the ground tremble and resound; and smoke, still more dense, spread over all the field. In the squares and streets of cities far and near, could the smell of powder be perceived. But the gunners had taken their aim at too great an elevation, and too high did the red-hot balls fly; after giving a fearful whizz in the air, they flew over the heads of the Zaporoghians and buried themselves deep in the ground, tearing up and tossing the black earth high in the air. The French engineer tore his hair at seeing such want of skill, and began to point the cannons himself, without taking heed of the Cossacks’ bullets, which flew unceasingly. Tarass saw at once that evil was in store for two of the koorens, and shouted at the top of his voice: “Quickly away out of the camp, and on horseback every one of you!” But hardly would the Cossacks have had the time to do either, had not Ostap rushed into the very midst of the enemy; he tore the matches out of the hands of six of the gunners, but he failed to do the same to the remaining four, being driven back by the Poles. Meanwhile, the French engineer took the match with his own hand, to fire the biggest of the cannons, the like of which none of the Cossacks had ever seen before. Fearfully did its wide mouth gape, and a thousand deaths seemed to look out of it. And as it went off, and the three others followed it, while the dull resounding ground re-echoed their roar—much harm did they accomplish! More than one Cossack shall be bewailed by his old mother, who shall beat her withered bosom with her bony hands; more than one woman shall be widowed in Glookhov, Nemeerov, Chernigov, and other towns! Poor widows will every day run to the market, stop every passer-by, to have a peep at his face, to see if he be not the one dearest above all; but many Cossacks shall pass the city, and yet the one dearest above all, shall not be among them.
Half of the Nezamaikovskoï kooren seemed never to have been there! As hail strikes down a whole corn field, where every ear is heavy as a full weighing ducat, so were they stricken down and laid on the ground.
How infuriate grew the Cossacks! how all of them rushed forward! how did the blood boil in the heart of Ivookoobenko, the koorennoï ataman, when he saw that the best part of his kooren was no more! He took the remainder of his Cossacks, threw himself with them into the very midst of the battle; in his fury, hacked to pieces the first whom he reached, threw many off their horses, spearing both riders and horses, cut his way to the gunners, and had already taken one of the guns—but there he beholds the ataman of the Omanskoï kooren busily engaged about the cannons, and that Stephen Gooska has already taken the big one. Kookoobenko left them to do their business there, and led his Cossacks into another crowd of enemies; wherever the Nezamaikovskoï kooren has passed, a street is opened there, wherever they have turned there is a lane!2 Everywhere the ranks of the foe were seen to grow thinner, and Poles were seen falling like sheaves of corn! Next to the waggons fought Vovtoozenko; in front of them Cherivichenko; farther off Degtiarenko, and still farther, the koorennoï Vertykhoist. Two officers had Degtiarenko picked up on his spear, a third proved to be more obstinate. Stalwart and strong was the Polish officer, rich was his armour, and no fewer than fifty servants had he brought in his train. Strongly did he attack Degtiarenko; he had already brought him down on the ground, and brandishing his sword over his head, crying: “None of you, Cossack dogs, no, not one, will ever dare to confront me!”
“Not so, there are some left still,” said Mossy Sheelo, stepping forward. A strong Cossack was he; more than once had he been ataman in sea campaigns, and many had been the sufferings he had endured. He had been made prisoner by the Turks near Trebizond, and all his Cossacks had been brought prisoners on the Turkish galleys, with their hands and feet fettered in iron chains; whole weeks they had had no millet for food, and nothing but disgusting sea-water for drink. All this had the poor prisoners endured rather than forfeit the faith of their fathers. Not so their ataman, Mossy Sheelo; he trampled the holy faith under foot, put the accursed turban on his sinful head, acquired the confidence of the Pacha, was made gaoler in the galley, and overseer of the prisoners. Greatly were the poor prisoners aggrieved by this; for they knew that no tyranny can be heavier and more bitter than that of a man who has betrayed his faith and passed over to the persecutors. So it proved; Mossy Sheelo put them all into new triple chains, bound them with hard ropes, which cut through to their white bones. At his hands every one of them received strokes and blows. But when the Turks, glad to have acquired so good a servant, and unmindful of their law, all got drunk, Sheelo brought all the sixty-four keys, and gave them to the prisoners that they might unlock their fetters, throw them into the sea, and take in their stead sabres, with which to cut the Turks in pieces. Much booty did the Cossacks take then, with glory did they return home, and long afterwards did the musicians sing the praises of Mossy Sheelo. He might have been elected Koschevoï, but he was a strange Cossack; at one time he did such deeds as the wisest could never have planned, at others, he seemed possessed by madness. So he spent everything in drinking and feasting, went in debt to every one in the Ssiecha, and at last betook himself to robbing; one night he stole from another kooren a complete Cossack’s equipment, and pawned it to the brandy-shop. For so base a deed he was tied to the pillory in the market, and a bludgeon placed beside him, in order that every one, according to his strength, might give him a blow; but not one was found among the Zaporoghians to raise the bludgeon against him, so highly did they value his past services. Such was the Cossack Mossy Sheelo.
“Yes, there are still some to beat you dogs!” exclaimed he, attacking the officer. Then how they fought! Both had their breastplates and shoulder-pieces bent by the weight of their blows. The cursed Pole cut through his foe’s coat of mail, and his blade penetrated to the very flesh; the Cossack’s mail-coat was reddened with blood, but Sheelo paid no attention to it; down went his sinewy arm (heavy was that mighty arm!), and its blow stunned his foe, and Sheelo went on hacking and hewing to pieces his insensible foe. “Do not hack him thus, Cossack; ’twere better to turn round!” The Cossack did not turn round, and on the spot one of the dead officer’s servants plunged his knife into Sheelo’s throat. Sheelo turned, and would have caught his murderer, but he was already lost in the smoke. From every quarter the guns were now firing. Sheelo staggered, and felt that his wound was mortal; he fell on the ground, put his hand on his wound, and turning to his comrades, said: “Fare ye well, gentlemen brother-comrades! May the orthodox Russian country for ever last, and may its glory endure for ever!” And he closed his weakened eyes, and away flew the Cossack’s soul out of his hard body. Meantime Zadorojni led his Cossacks into the fight; the koorennoï ataman Vertykhoist was breaking the enemy’s ranks, and Balaban was advancing.
“How now, gentlemen!” said Tarass, summoning the atamans of the koorens, “is there still powder in the horns? is not the Cossack’s strength yet faint? do not the Cossacks give way?”
“There is still powder in the horns, father; the Cossacks’ strength is not yet faint; the Cossacks do not yet give way.”
Vigorously did the Cossacks attack; they broke through all the ranks. The diminutive colonel ordered the retreat to be beaten, and eight coloured standards to be hoisted, in order to gather together the Poles dispersed far away over all the field. The Poles rushed towards the standards; but they had not time to rally before Kookoobenko again fell into their very centre with the Cossacks of his kooren, and went straight at the stout colonel; the colonel could not stand his attack, turned his horse and fled at its utmost speed; and Kookoobenko chased him over all the field, giving him no time to join his regiment. Seeing this from one of the koorens on the flank, Stephen Gooska joined in the pursuit, his arkan in hand, his head bent down to his horse’s neck, and choosing his time, threw the arkan suddenly round the colonel’s throat; deep red grew the colonel’s face, with both hands he seized the cord, endeavouring to break it; but a strong blow had already sent a spear through his body, and there he remained nailed to the spot. But Gooska, too, must meet his fate! Hardly had the Cossacks had time to look back, when they saw Stephen Gooska pierced with four spears. The poor fellow had only time to say: “Let all our enemies perish, and may the Russian land exult for ever!” when he breathed his last. The Cossacks looked back, and there, on the one side is Metelitza, treating the Poles with blows, first one and then another; there, on the other side, the ataman Revelichki falls on with his kooren; there, near the waggons, the foe is driven back and beaten down by Zakrootygooba; and farther off, the third Pissarenko has put to flight a whole crowd; and still farther, round the remotest waggons, the fight is still hotter, and they fight on the very waggons.
“Gentlemen,” cried the Ataman Tarass, riding in front, “is there still powder in the horns? is the Cossack’s strength still strong? have not the Cossacks already given way?”
“There is still powder in the horns, father! still is the Cossack’s strength entire, nor have the Cossacks yet given way!”
Bovdug fell down from his waggon; a bullet had struck him just beneath his heart; but the old man gathered up his strength and said, “I do not regret leaving the world; may God grant such a death to you all; and to the last may the Russian land be glorious!” and Bovdug’s soul flew up to heaven to tell old men, long since departed, that Russians know how to fight, and still better, that Russians know how to die for their holy faith!
Soon after him, the koorennoï ataman Balaban fell also. Three deadly wounds from spear, from bullet, and from sabre, had fallen to his lot. He had been one of the bravest Cossacks; many times had he led the Cossacks over sea; but most glorious of all had been his campaign to the Anatolian coast. Many sequins had they then taken, much costly Turkish goods, stuffs, and ornaments. But grief was in store for them on their return; they fell in, poor fellows, with Turkish cannon. As the ship fired her broadside, half of their boats went wheeling round and upset, and many Cossacks were drowned in the sea; but the boats did not sink, thanks to the bundles of reeds tied to their edges. Balaban fled at the utmost speed of his oars, took his stand straight under the sun, so as not to be seen by the Turkish ship. All night long after this did the Cossacks bale out the water from the boats with their scoops and caps, and mend the rent planks; of their Cossack trowsers they made sails, caught the wind, and escaped from the swiftest of all the Turkish ships. And not only did they safely return to the Ssiecha, but brought a gold embroidered dress to the abbot of the monastery of Kieff, and a plate of pure silver for the church of the Ssiecha. And long afterwards was the Cossacks’ feat the theme of the musician’s praises. But Balaban bent down his head, and feeling the approach of death, slowly said, “It seems to me, gentlemen brothers, that my death is a good death! Seven have I cut down with my sword, nine have I pierced with my spear, many have I trampled under my steed’s feet, and so many have I hit with my bullets, that I cannot recollect their number. So then, may the Russian land flourish for ever!” and away his soul took its flight.
Cossacks, Cossacks! do not let the best flower of your army be taken from you! Already is Kookoobenko surrounded; already seven men are all that remain of the Nezamaikovskoï kooren, already they are nearly overpowered, and bloody are Kookoobenko’s garments! Tarass himself, seeing his danger, hastened to his rescue. But the Cossacks were too late; a spear had already gone deep beneath his heart, before the foes who surrounded him were driven away. Slowly he drooped on the Cossacks who caught him in their arms, and his young blood streamed forth, like costly wine which careless servants bringing in a crystal flask from the cellar, and slipping at the entrance, have spilled on the ground; the precious flask is broken to pieces, the wine flows over the floor, and the master comes running and tearing his hair; he who had preserved that wine for the best occasion of his life, in order that if in his old days he ever happened to meet a comrade of his youth, he might remember with him bygone times, when different and better were the joys of men! Kookoobenko looked around him, and said, “Thank God, comrades, that I happen to die beneath your eyes! May those after us live better than we have done, and may everlasting felicity be the lot of the Christ-beloved Russian land!” And away flew the young soul. Angels raised it in their hands, and carried it to Heaven. “Sit down on my right hand, Kookoobenko,” will Christ say to him, “thou didst not betray thy comrades, didst no dishonest deed, didst not forsake a man in distress, and didst preserve and defend my faith!”
All were grieved by Kookoobenko’s death; thinner and thinner grew the Cossacks’ ranks, yet still they kept their ground.
“How now, gentlemen?” cried Tarass to the remaining koorens, “is there still powder in the horns? are not the sabres grown blunt? is not the Cossack’s strength tired? are not the Cossacks giving way?”
“There is still powder enough, father! the sabres are still good! the Cossacks’ strength fails not, nor have they given way!”
And again the Cossacks rushed on, as if they had sustained no loss. Of the koorennoï atamans, three alone remained alive. Crimson streams of blood flowed in every direction, and the corpses of Cossacks and foes were piled in heaps. Tarass looked up to the sky, and behold, long lines of birds of prey were already there! A glorious feast will be theirs!
And now, behold, Metelitza is pierced by a spear! and there falls the head of the second Pissarenko, rolling and quivering its eyelids; there falls heavily Okhrim Gooska, brought down and hewn into four pieces. “‘Tis well!” said Tarass, and waved his handkerchief. Ostap understood the signal, and darting out of his ambuscade, furiously attacked the cavalry. The Poles could not withstand his impetuous attack, gave way; and were driven straight towards the spot where the ground was strewn with broken spears and stakes. The horses stumbled and fell at every step, and their riders were thrown over their heads. Just then, the Korsoonskoï kooren which stood behind the remotest waggons, seeing the enemy within gunshot, sent them a volley of musketry.
The Poles lost all presence of mind—the Cossacks regained courage. “The victory is ours!” shouted the Zaporoghians on all sides; the trumpets sounded; the victory banner was hoisted. Everywhere the discomfited Poles were to be seen flying and concealing themselves. “Not yet! the victory is not yet ours!” said Tarass, looking towards the town gate; and truly did he say so. The gate was thrown open, and out flew the hussar regiment, the choicest of all the Polish cavalry. All the riders were mounted on chestnut steeds, all equally fine. In front rode a knight, the finest and most spirited of them all; black curls waved from beneath his brass helmet; a costly scarf, embroidered by the fairest beauty, fluttered round his arm. Tarass was astounded at recognising in him Andrew! Meanwhile, Andrew, entirely given up to the heat and excitement of the battle, and fervently anxious to deserve the token tied upon his arm, flew like a young greyhound, the finest, swiftest, and youngest of all the pack; the experienced huntsman has hallooed to, and there it flies, its legs stretched in a straight line through the air, its body drawn a little on one side, puffing up the snow, and in the heat of its race, ten times outstripping the hare. Old Tarass remained standing and watching how he cleared his way, drove back those before him, cutting and hewing on each side. Tarass could refrain no longer, and exclaimed, “How? thine own comrades? thy brothers? devil’s son, dost thou hew them?” But Andrew saw not who was before him, whether his comrades or others. He saw nothing but ringlets, long, long ringlets, a bosom white as a swan’s, a snow-like neck and shoulders, and all that is created for frantic kisses.
“Children! lure him to the wood, lure him towards me!” shouted Tarass. Immediately some thirty Cossacks started for the purpose. Pulling their tall caps over their brows, they rode at the utmost speed of their horses to cut their way to the hussars. They attacked the foremost in flank, confused their ranks, cut them off from those behind, and wounded some of them; Golokopytenko struck Andrew on the back with his sabre, and then, all betook themselves to flight at the utmost speed of their horses. How incensed was Andrew! how intensely did his young blood boil in all his veins! Striking his sharp spurs into the sides of his horse, he set off at full speed in pursuit of the Cossacks, without looking back, and without seeing that not more than twenty men followed him; the Cossacks continued to ride at full gallop, and turned straight towards the wood. Andrew had already reached Golokopytenko, when a strong arm seized his bridle. Andrew turned round; Tarass stood before him! A shudder ran through all his body and he turned pale. Like a schoolboy, who, after having unwittingly offended his comrade, and received a stroke on the head with his ruler, fires up at once, furiously rushes from his bench, darts after his terrified comrade, wishes to tear him to pieces, then suddenly encounters the master, entering the schoolroom; at once the frantic impulse is calmed, and the powerless fury vanishes. Even so, in one instant did Andrew’s wrath vanish, as if he had never felt it. And he saw before him nothing but the terrific figure of his father.
“Well, what are we to do now?” said Tarass, looking him full in the face. But Andrew could find nothing to answer, and remained with his eyes cast down upon the ground.
“Well, son, of what avail were thy Poles to thee?”
Andrew continued speechless.
“To betray—to betray thy faith? to betray thy brothers? Well, dismount from thy horse!”
Obedient as a child, he dismounted, and, unconscious of what he did, remained standing before Tarass.
“Stand, and do not move! I gave thee life: I kill thee!” said Tarass; and, falling back a step, he took his gun from his shoulder. Andrew was deadly pale; his lips moved slowly, muttering some name; but it was not the name of his country, nor that of his mother or brother: it was the name of the beautiful Polish girl. Tarass fired. As an ear of corn cut down by the sickle—as a young lamb when it feels the deadly steel beneath its heart, so did he droop his head, and fell on the grass without uttering a word.
The slayer of his son stood and gazed long upon the breathless corpse. Even in death he was still beautiful; his manly face, but a minute before full of power and fascination, irresistible for women, still showed marvellous beauty; his black eyebrows seemed, like mourning velvet, to heighten the pallor of his features. “What a Cossack he might have been!” said Tarass; “so tall his stature, so black his eyebrows, with the countenance of a gentleman, and an arm strong in battle. He perished, and perished ignominiously, like a vile dog!”
“Father! what hast thou done? Didst thou kill him?” cried Ostap, who had ridden to the spot by this time.
Tarass nodded his head.
Ostap looked steadfastly into the eyes of the dead. He pitied the fate of his brother, and said, “Well, father, let us bury him decently, that the foe may not insult his corpse, and that it may not be torn to pieces by birds of prey.”
“Others will bury him without us,” answered Tarass. “There will be mourners and waiters enough!”
For a few seconds he considered: was the corpse to be left a prey to wolves, or was it to be spared on account of Andrew’s knightly valour, which the brave should ever respect, it signifies not in whom it may be found? But see! there comes Golokopytenko galloping towards him. “Woe to us, Ataman! the Poles grow stronger; new reinforcements have come to them.”
Hardly had Golokopytenko done speaking, when Yovtoozenko came riding up, at full speed. “Woe to us, Ataman! new forces come unceasingly!” Hardly had Vovtoozenko done speaking, when Pissarenko runs up on foot. “Where art thou, father? the Cossacks are seeking for thee. Already is the koorennoï ataman Nevelichki killed; Zadorojni is killed; Cherevichenko killed too! but the Cossacks keep their stand, and will not die before looking into thy face; they wish that thou shouldst see them at the hour of death!”
“To horse, Ostap!” said Tarass, and hastened to join the Cossacks, to behold them once more, and to give them a last sight of their ataman before death. But they had not yet extricated themselves from the wood, as it was surrounded by the enemy’s forces on all sides; and everywhere among the trees were riders with sabres and spears. “Ostap, Ostap, do not yield,” cried Tarass, and then he himself, unsheathing hit sabre, began to deal blows on all sides to those whom he first met with. Meanwhile, six men had already sprung upon Ostap; but they found it no lucky moment. The head of one flew off at once; another wheeled round and turned back; the spear entered the ribs of a third; the fourth, more daring, threw his head on one side to avoid a bullet. The bullet entered his steed’s breast, the infuriated animal threw itself back, fell on the ground, and crushed its rider beneath its weight. “Well, done, my boy; well done, Ostap!” shouted Tarass; “I am coming!” and then himself repelled the assailants. Tarass fights and deals heavy blows, first on one, then on the head of another, and all the while looks forward at Ostap, and now sees that no less than eight are again attacking him at once. “Ostap! Ostap! do not yield!” But Ostap is already conquered; already an enemy has thrown the arkan round Ostap’s neck; already is Ostap bound; already is Ostap dragged away. “Ostap, Ostap!” shouted Tarass, clearing his way towards him, and hewing away at every one who crossed his path. “Ostap, Ostap!” But at the same moment he seemed stunned by some heavy stone; everything wheeled and turned round before his eyes. For a moment things glimmered confusedly in his sight—heads, spears, smoke, flashes of fire, boughs of trees with leaves. And down he went on the ground, like an oak hewn at its root, and a cloud spread over his eyes.