Short Fiction by Vladimir Korolenko (ready player one ebook TXT) 📕

soon perceived that our leader was not to be relied on, although he was an experienced vagrant, having twice escaped from Saghálin, and was familiar with the road, walking along without hesitation like a dog following a trail, still my friend Volóydka and myself mistrusted him.

“ ‘Look out,’ he said to me, ‘lest we get into trouble with Burán. Can’t you see that he does not act like himself!’

“ ‘What makes you think so?’ I said.

“ ‘Something must be the matter with him. He talks to himself, shaking his head now and then, and has given us no orders. We ought to have halted long before this; but on he walks, regardless of us. I tell you he is not as he should be.’

“Feeling sure that something was wrong, we made haste to overtake him, exclaiming as we came up:⁠—

“ ‘Uncle!⁠—I say, uncle! Why don’t we halt? Isn’t it time to rest awhile?’

“He turned, looked at us, then went on again.

“ ‘Don’t be in such a hurry to rest; the bullets will give you time for that at Várki or at Póghib, and it will be a thorough rest too.’

“ ‘The deuce take you!’ we thought to ourselves; but we did not venture to oppose him, for he was an old vagrant, and it was very possible that we were in the wrong. It would perhaps be wiser to travel as far as we could the first day.

“After walking for some time, Volóydka nudged me again.

“ ‘I say, Vasíli, we had better be on the lookout!’

“ ‘Why, what’s the matter now?’

“ ‘When we started, we were twenty versts from Várki; we have surely travelled eighteen, and we must take care not to stumble on an outpost.’

“ ‘Burán!⁠—I say, Burán! uncle!’ he called out.

“ ‘What do you want?’

“ ‘Várki can’t be far off.’

“ ‘We are nowhere near it,’ replied Burán, and off he started again.

“A catastrophe was close at hand, but, luckily for us, we spied a small boat moored in the river, close to the shore. As soon as we saw it, we all stopped. Makárof had to hold Burán by main force. If a boat were there, surely there must be a dwelling not far away. ‘Halt, boys, and hide in the bushes!’

“Following the course of the stream, we entered the woods. Hills covered with birches rose on either side.

“From early spring the island is veiled in fog, and on this day, as usual, a thick mist enveloped it. As we climbed the hill, a breeze sprang up and drove the fog into the sea.

“Suddenly, at the foot of the hill, we discovered the outpost, almost directly at our feet. Dogs were sleeping in the yard, and soldiers walking about. We were indeed dismayed, for we had barely escaped the very jaws of the wolf.

“ ‘How is this, uncle Burán!’ we said; ‘see the outpost down there?’

“ ‘Sure enough, it is! this is Várki,’ he replied.

“ ‘See here, uncle!’ we said, ‘you mustn’t be vexed, but we have come to the conclusion that, even though you are our senior, we must look out for ourselves; we fear we may get into trouble if we follow your directions.’

“The old man wept.

“ ‘Forgive me, comrades, for Christ’s sake!⁠—I am old,’ he said. ‘Forty years I have been on the tramp, and am worn out; my memory fails me. I remember some things, and I forget others. Don’t be too hard on me! We must make haste and leave this place as soon as possible, for if somebody from the outpost happened to go berrying, or the dogs were to get on our scent, all would be lost!’

“We started forward, discussing this matter as we went along, and decided to watch Burán. I was chosen leader, to determine the time and place for halting and to make all necessary arrangements. Burán was still to walk ahead, for he alone knew the way. His feet were tough; faint as he often grew with fatigue, they never failed him, as he went waddling along. And thus he walked till he drew his last breath.

“We followed the highlands, a safer although more difficult course. On the hills the woods rustled and the streams ran playfully over their rocky beds. The Ghilák aborigines live in the valleys, by the riverbanks, or by the seaside, because they feed on fish, of which there is so great a quantity that one who has not seen for himself could hardly believe the accounts⁠—we used to catch them with our hands.

“Thus we cautiously advanced, sniffing the air as we walked along. Wherever we deemed it safe, we came down to the seashore or to the bank of some river; but if there was the slightest suspicion of danger, we ascended to the highlands at once, carefully avoiding the outposts, which are stationed at irregular intervals. In some places they are posted fifteen and in others perhaps fifty versts apart. So irregular were the intervals, it was impossible to divine their location. But the Lord was merciful to us; and we escaped all of them, until we came to the very last one.”

VI

Here the narrator frowned, and relapsed into silence. After a while he rose.

“But how did it end?” I inquired.

“It seems to me that my horse must be dry by this time.⁠ ⁠… I must unfasten him.”

We went out into the yard. The frost had diminished, and the fog was lifted. The vagrant looked at the sky.

“It must be after midnight,” he said, gazing at the stars. Divested of the veil of fog, the yourts of the neighboring settlement had now become plainly visible. The village was sleeping. White columns of smoke rose leisurely and indolently into the air; only now and then from some chimney a shower of sparks suddenly flew up, madly leaping in the frosty air. The Yakúts keep their fires going all night, for the heat escapes quickly from their short, open chimneys, and it is the habit of each person who chances to wake, made restless perhaps by the cold, to throw on fresh logs.

The vagrant remained silent for