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

“As I rose, I saw that the last two men had run up the hill. Their officer, Saltánof, was a brave and fearless fellow, whose fame had spread far and wide. Even the Ghiláks feared him as they did the Evil Spirit, and many convicts had been killed by his hand.

“There were two Circassians among us⁠—daring fellows, and as agile as cats. One of them threw himself on Saltánof. They had met halfway up the hill. Saltánof fired his revolver at him; the Circassian ducked, and both fell to the ground. The other Circassian, thinking that his friend had been killed, threw himself on Saltánof, and we had not time to breathe before, in the twinkling of an eye, he had severed Saltánof’s head with his knife.

“He jumped on his feet,⁠ ⁠… grinned,⁠ ⁠… and held the head in the air.⁠ ⁠… We were struck dumb.⁠ ⁠… Shrieking something in his own language, he swung the head around, and tossed it up.⁠ ⁠… It flew high above the trees, and disappeared behind the cliff.⁠ ⁠… We were awestricken.⁠ ⁠… We heard the splash as it fell into the sea.

“The last soldier had paused on the hill; we saw him throwing away his musket, and covering his face with his hands as he ran away. We did not pursue him, thinking, ‘Escape, poor soul, if you can.’ He was the only surviving man on the outpost. There had been twenty of them, but thirteen had gone over to the Amúr side, where the high wind had detained them; and the remaining six were killed.

“All was over, and yet we were frightened. Glancing at each other, we could not at once realize whether it had been a dream or a reality. Just then we heard someone groaning behind us, and under the trees, on the very spot where we had been sleeping, sat Burán, moaning. He had been shot by the first soldier, but did not die till the sun had set behind the hill. We were inexpressibly grieved.

“We went to him and found him sitting under a cedar-tree; his eyes were filled with tears, and, pressing his hands to his chest, he beckoned to me.

“ ‘Let the boys dig a grave for me,’ he said. ‘You cannot start before night, at any rate, on account of the danger of meeting the rest of the soldiers in the straits. Bury me here, for Christ’s sake!’

“ ‘Hush, hush, uncle Burán! God bless you!’ I said. ‘How can we dig a grave for a living man? We will take you across to the Amúr, and then carry you in our arms.’

“ ‘No, my boy; it is useless to contend with fate, and I am sure it is my fate to remain on this island. So you had better do as I say, for I have long felt that this was going to happen. All my life 1 have tried to escape from Siberia into Russia; I wish I could, at least, die on Siberian soil, and not on this cursed island.’

“I confess that Burán took me entirely by surprise; for now he spoke sensibly, quite like a different being, and seemed fully conscious. His eyes looked bright; his voice only sounded weak. He gathered us about him and gave us the following instructions:⁠—

“ ‘Listen to me, boys, and remember what I tell you; you will not have me with you when you travel through Siberia, since it is my fate to remain here. It will be dangerous business for you, the more so for having killed Saltánof. The report of this deed will travel far. It will be known not only in Irkútsk but throughout Russia; and in Nikoláevsk they will be on the watch for you. Be on your guard, boys; travel cautiously; rather suffer cold and hunger than run the risk of capture; avoid cities and villages as much as possible. Do not fear the Ghiláks; they will not harm you. And remember what I am going to tell you about the road on the Amúr side; a little beyond the town of Nikoláevsk lives our benefactor, the clerk of Merchant Tarkhánof. He traded formerly with the Ghiláks on the island of Saghálin, and once while travelling with his merchandise he lost his way in the mountains. He was not then on good terms with the Ghiláks. Overtaking him in an unfrequented spot in the ravine, they nearly killed him.

“ ‘We happened to be tramping about the same time.⁠ ⁠… I was escaping for the first time.⁠ ⁠… Hearing the cries of a Russian in the woods, we hurried to his rescue, and, by delivering him from the hands of the Ghiláks, won his lasting gratitude.

“ ‘ “I must take care of the Saghálinian boys to my dying day,” he said, and, indeed, he has helped us a great deal. Find him, and he will be sure to assist you in every way he can.’ Then he told us of the different roads, giving us all the necessary directions, and finally said:⁠—

“ ‘Now, boys, you had better lose no time. This spot suits me; dig my grave here, Vasíli, that the wind from the Amúr shore may blow over my grave, and that my spirit may hear the sound of the sea dashing against the rocks. Don’t tarry, boys, but make haste and go to work.’

“We obeyed him.

“There, under the cedar-tree, sat the old man while we were digging his grave with our knives; after we had finished, a prayer was read. In the meantime, Burán had become silent, only nodding his head, while tears ran down his cheeks. He died at sunset, and shortly after dark we buried him.

“The moon had risen as we reached the middle of the straits, and it was quite light. We looked back and took off our caps.⁠ ⁠… Behind us rose the island of Saghálin, with its hills, and we saw the cedar-tree by Burán’s grave.

“When we reached the Amúr shore, the Ghiláks said to us: ‘Saltánof⁠ ⁠… head⁠ ⁠… water.⁠ ⁠…’ The natives are shrewd;