The Cossacks by graf Tolstoy Leo (best book series to read TXT) 📕
Read free book «The Cossacks by graf Tolstoy Leo (best book series to read TXT) 📕» - read online or download for free at americanlibrarybooks.com
- Author: graf Tolstoy Leo
- Performer: -
Read book online «The Cossacks by graf Tolstoy Leo (best book series to read TXT) 📕». Author - graf Tolstoy Leo
Olenin.
‘And have you horses such as ours?’
‘I have a hundred horses, worth three or four hundred rubles each,
but they are not like yours. They are trotters, you know…. But
still, I like the horses here best.’
‘Well, and did you come here of your own free will, or were you
sent?’ said Lukashka, laughing at him. ‘Look! that’s where you
lost your way,’ he added, ‘you should have turned to the right.’
‘I came by my own wish,’ replied Olenin. ‘I wanted to see your
parts and to join some expeditions.’
‘I would go on an expedition any day,’ said Lukashka. ‘D’you hear
the jackals howling?’ he added, listening.
‘I say, don’t you feel any horror at having killed a man?’ asked
Olenin.
‘What’s there to be frightened about? But I should like to join an
expedition,’ Lukashka repeated. ‘How I want to! How I want to!’
‘Perhaps we may be going together. Our company is going before the
holidays, and your “hundred” too.’
‘And what did you want to come here for? You’ve a house and horses
and serfs. In your place I’d do nothing but make merry! And what
is your rank?’
‘I am a cadet, but have been recommended for a commission.’
‘Well, if you’re not bragging about your home, if I were you I’d
never have left it! Yes, I’d never have gone away anywhere. Do you
find it pleasant living among us?’
‘Yes, very pleasant,’ answered Olenin.
It had grown quite dark before, talking in this way, they
approached the village. They were still surrounded by the deep
gloom of the forest. The wind howled through the tree-tops. The
jackals suddenly seemed to be crying close beside them, howling,
chuckling, and sobbing; but ahead of them in the village the
sounds of women’s voices and the barking of dogs could already be
heard; the outlines of the huts were clearly to be seen; lights
gleamed and the air was filled with the peculiar smell of kisyak
smoke. Olenin felt keenly, that night especially, that here in
this village was his home, his family, all his happiness, and that
he never had and never would live so happily anywhere as he did in
this Cossack village. He was so fond of everybody and especially
of Lukashka that night. On reaching home, to Lukashka’s great
surprise, Olenin with his own hands led out of the shed a horse he
had bought in Groznoe—it was not the one he usually rode but
another—not a bad horse though no longer young, and gave it to
Lukashka.
‘Why should you give me a present?’ said Lukashka, ‘I have not yet
done anything for you.’
‘Really it is nothing,’ answered Olenin. ‘Take it, and you will
give me a present, and we’ll go on an expedition against the enemy
together.’
Lukashka became confused.
‘But what d’you mean by it? As if a horse were of little value,’
he said without looking at the horse.
‘Take it, take it! If you don’t you will offend me. Vanyusha! Take
the grey horse to his house.’
Lukashka took hold of the halter.
‘Well then, thank you! This is something unexpected, undreamt of.’
Olenin was as happy as a boy of twelve.
‘Tie it up here. It’s a good horse. I bought it in Groznoe; it
gallops splendidly! Vanyusha, bring us some chikhir. Come into the
hut.’
The wine was brought. Lukashka sat down and took the wine-bowl.
‘God willing I’ll find a way to repay you,’ he said, finishing his
wine. ‘How are you called?’
‘Dmitri Andreich.’
‘Well, ‘Mitry Andreich, God bless you. We will be kunaks. Now you
must come to see us. Though we are not rich people still we can
treat a kunak, and I will tell mother in case you need anything—
clotted cream or grapes—and if you come to the cordon I’m your
servant to go hunting or to go across the river, anywhere you
like! There now, only the other day, what a boar I killed, and I
divided it among the Cossacks, but if I had only known, I’d have
given it to you.’ ‘That’s all right, thank you! But don’t harness
the horse, it has never been in harness.’
‘Why harness the horse? And there is something else I’ll tell you
if you like,’ said Lukashka, bending his head. ‘I have a kunak,
Girey Khan. He asked me to lie in ambush by the road where they
come down from the mountains. Shall we go together? I’ll not
betray you. I’ll be your murid.’
‘Yes, we’ll go; we’ll go some day.’
Lukashka seemed quite to have quieted down and to have understood
Olenin’s attitude towards him. His calmness and the ease of his
behaviour surprised Olenin, and he did not even quite like it.
They talked long, and it was late when Lukashka, not tipsy (he
never was tipsy) but having drunk a good deal, left Olenin after
shaking hands.
Olenin looked out of the window to see what he would do. Lukashka
went out, hanging his head. Then, having led the horse out of the
gate, he suddenly shook his head, threw the reins of the halter
over its head, sprang onto its back like a cat, gave a wild shout,
and galloped down the street. Olenin expected that Lukishka would
go to share his joy with Maryanka, but though he did not do so
Olenin still felt his soul more at ease than ever before in his
life. He was as delighted as a boy, and could not refrain from
telling Vanyusha not only that he had given Lukashka the horse,
but also why he had done it, as well as his new theory of
happiness. Vanyusha did not approve of his theory, and announced
that ‘l’argent il n’y a pas!’ and that therefore it was all
nonsense.
Lukashka rode home, jumped off the horse, and handed it over to
his mother, telling her to let it out with the communal Cossack
herd. He himself had to return to the cordon that same night. His
deaf sister undertook to take the horse, and explained by signs
that when she saw the man who had given the horse, she would bow
down at his feet. The old woman only shook her head at her son’s
story, and decided in her own mind that he had stolen it. She
therefore told the deaf girl to take it to the herd before
daybreak.
Lukashka went back alone to the cordon pondering over Olenin’s
action. Though he did not consider the horse a good one, yet it
was worth at least forty rubles and Lukashka was very glad to have
the present. But why it had been given him he could not at all
understand, and therefore he did not experience the least feeling
of gratitude. On the contrary, vague suspicions that the cadet had
some evil intentions filled his mind. What those intentions were
he could not decide, but neither could he admit the idea that a
stranger would give him a horse worth forty rubles for nothing,
just out of kindness; it seemed impossible. Had he been drunk one
might understand it! He might have wished to show off. But the
cadet had been sober, and therefore must have wished to bribe him
to do something wrong. ‘Eh, humbug!’ thought Lukashka. ‘Haven’t I
got the horse and we’ll see later on. I’m not a fool myself and we
shall see who’ll get the better of the other,’ he thought, feeling
the necessity of being on his guard, and therefore arousing in
himself unfriendly feelings towards Olenin. He told no one how he
had got the horse. To some he said he had bought it, to others he
replied evasively. However, the truth soon got about in the
village, and Lukashka’s mother and Maryanka, as well as Elias
Vasilich and other Cossacks, when they heard of Olenin’s
unnecessary gift, were perplexed, and began to be on their guard
against the cadet. But despite their fears his action aroused in
them a great respect for his simplicity and wealth.
‘Have you heard,’ said one, ‘that the cadet quartered on Elias
Vasilich has thrown a fifty-ruble horse at Lukashka? He’s
rich! …’
‘Yes, I heard of it,’ replied another profoundly, ‘he must have
done him some great service. We shall see what will come of this
cadet. Eh! what luck that Snatcher has!’
‘Those cadets are crafty, awfully crafty,’ said a third. ‘See if
he don’t go setting fire to a building, or doing something!’
Olenin’s life went on with monotonous regularity. He had little
intercourse with the commanding officers or with his equals. The
position of a rich cadet in the Caucasus was peculiarly
advantageous in this respect. He was not sent out to work, or for
training. As a reward for going on an expedition he was
recommended for a commission, and meanwhile he was left in peace.
The officers regarded him as an aristocrat and behaved towards him
with dignity. Cardplaying and the officers’ carousals accompanied
by the soldier-singers, of which he had had experience when he was
with the detachment, did not seem to him attractive, and he also
avoided the society and life of the officers in the village. The
life of officers stationed in a Cossack village has long had its
own definite form. Just as every cadet or officer when in a fort
regularly drinks porter, plays cards, and discusses the rewards
given for taking part in the expeditions, so in the Cossack
villages he regularly drinks chikhir with his hosts, treats the
girls to sweetmeats and honey, dangles after the Cossack women,
and falls in love, and occasionally marries there. Olenin always
took his own path and had an unconscious objection to the beaten
tracks. And here, too, he did not follow the ruts of a Caucasian
officer’s life.
It came quite naturally to him to wake up at daybreak. After
drinking tea and admiring from his porch the mountains, the
morning, and Maryanka, he would put on a tattered ox-hide coat,
sandals of soaked raw hide, buckle on a dagger, take a gun, put
cigarettes and some lunch in a little bag, call his dog, and soon
after five o’clock would start for the forest beyond the village.
Towards seven in the evening he would return tired and hungry with
five or six pheasants hanging from his belt (sometimes with some
other animal) and with his bag of food and cigarettes untouched.
If the thoughts in his head had lain like the lunch and cigarettes
in the bag, one might have seen that during all those fourteen
hours not a single thought had moved in it. He returned morally
fresh, strong, and perfectly happy, and he could not tell what he
had been thinking about all the time. Were they ideas, memories,
or dreams that had been flitting through his mind? They were
frequently all three. He would rouse himself and ask what he had
been thinking about; and would see himself as a Cossack working in
a vineyard with his Cossack wife, or an abrek in the mountains, or
a boar running away from himself. And all the time he kept peering
and watching for a pheasant, a boar, or a deer.
In the evening Daddy Eroshka would be sure to be sitting with him.
Vanyusha would bring a jug of chikhir, and they would converse
quietly, drink, and separate to go quite contentedly to bed. The
next day he would again go shooting, again be healthily weary,
again they would sit conversing and drink their fill, and again be
happy. Sometimes on a holiday or day of rest Olenin spent
Comments (0)