Part 15

"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.

X.

"How long I have slept!" said Tarass, awakening, as if after a heavy drunken sleep, and endeavouring to make out the surrounding objects. He felt a fearful weakness in all his limbs. Scarcely could his eyes follow the outlines of the walls and corners of an unknown room. At last he recognised Tovkach, who was sitting beside him, and seemed to watch his every breath.

"Yes," thought Tovkach to himself, "thou hast all but had thy last sleep!" He, however, said nothing, and held up his finger, to make Tarass understand that he was to be silent.

"Tell me, where am I now?" asked Tarass, collecting his thoughts, and endeavouring to bring back his recollection of the past.

"Hold thy tongue," said his comrade, sternly rebuking him. "What wouldst thou know more? Dost thou not feel that thou art all mangled? For the last fortnight we have been riding hard with thee, without ever stopping, and thou all the time with fever and delirium. 'Tis now the first time that thou hast had a quiet sleep. Hold thy tongue, if thou wilt not bring woe upon thy head."

But Tarass still endeavoured to gather his thoughts, and to recollect the past. "But how is it? I was quite taken and surrounded by the Poles. I had no possibility of cutting my way through the crowd?"

"Hold thy tongue, I tell thee, devil's son!" angrily cried Tovkach, as a nurse out of temper cries to a naughty child. "Of what use is it for thee to know _how_ thou didst escape? Thou _hast_ escaped, that's enough. There were men at hand who did not forsake thee; well, that is all thou needest know. We have still many nights to ride hard together. Dost thou think thou art worth no more than a common Cossack? Not so; they have set a price of two thousand ducats on thy head."

"And what of Ostap?" suddenly cried Tarass, endeavouring to rise, for he remembered all at once how Ostap had been caught and bound before his eyes, and how he must now be in the hands of the Poles. And grief rushed into his old head. He tore the bandages from his wounds, threw them far away, and wished to say something aloud; but his mind began to wander. Fever and delirium once more fell on him, and he ejaculated raving sentences without any sense or connection. Meanwhile his faithful comrade stood before him, grumbling and uttering without interruption, scolding words, and gruff reproaches. At last he took hold of his feet and hands, swaddled him round like a baby, set all the bandages in order, packed him up in an ox-hide? bound him round with sheets of bark, and then, tying him with a rope to his saddle, once more galloped away.

"I'll bring thee home, shouldst thou even die by the way. I will not let the Poles deride thy Cossack birth, tear thy body to pieces, and cast them into the river. And if an eagle is to peck thine eyes out of thy skull, it shall, at all events, be the eagle of our steppes, and not the Polish eagle--no, not the one that comes from Poland! Shouldst thou not be alive, it's the same thing. I'll bring thee over to Ukraine."

Thus spoke the faithful comrade, and riding day and night, without ever taking repose, he brought the still unconscious Tarass to the Zaporoghian Ssiecha. There he untiringly treated him with simples and poultices; he found a knowing Jewess, who, during a whole month, administered different medicines to Tarass; and at last Tarass improved. Perhaps the medicines took effect, and perhaps simply his own iron strength saved him; but in six weeks he was on his feet again, his wounds healed, and the sabre scars alone showed how deep they had been. However, he had grown evidently sullen and sorrowful. Three deep furrows crossed his brow, and never again left it. He looked about him, all were new in the Ssiecha; the old comrades had all died away. Not one remained of those who had stood up for the good cause, for faith and brotherhood. Those who went with the Koschevoï to pursue the Tartars, they, too, were long since no more--every one had perished, every one had met his end; some were killed in glorious fight, some had died in the Crimean salt-marshes of hunger and thirst, some had pined to death, not being able to endure the shame of captivity; the Koschevoï was also long ago no more of this world, like all the old comrades, and the grass was already growing over the bodies of those in whose veins once boiled the Cossack's valour.

In vain were attempts made to divert and enliven Tarass; in vain bearded gray-haired bards came in bands of two or three at a time to sing the praises of his Cossack feats; his features retained a harsh indifferent expression, and an unquenchable sorrow was seen on them, as, with his head bent down he murmured in a subdued voice, "My son! My Ostap!"

The Zaporoghians prepared for a sea campaign. Two hundred boats sailed down the Dnieper, and Asia Minor saw their shaven and crown-tufted heads, while they put everything on its blooming coast to fire and sword; it saw the turbans of its Mahometan inhabitants, like numberless flowers, strewn about on its fields soaked in blood, or floating near its shores. It saw not a few tar-besmeared Zaporoghian trowsers, and sinewy arms with black nagaïkas.[40] The Zaporoghians devoured and destroyed all the vineyards; left heaps of dirt in the Mosques; used costly Persian shawls instead of belts, and girded their dirty coats with them. Long afterwards, were the short Zaporoghian pipes to be found in these places. The Zaporoghians started gaily on their return; a ten-gun Turkish brig gave chase to them, and with a volley from its broadside dispersed their boats like birds; one-third of the Cossacks were drowned in the deep sea; but the remainder joined once more together and came into the mouth of the Dnieper, bringing with them twelve barrels full of sequins.

But all this no longer diverted Tarass. He went into the fields and into the steppes as if to hunt, but his gun remained unfired, and with a sorrowful heart he laid it down, and sat by the sea-shore. He remained there long with drooping head, saying all the time, "My Ostap! My Ostap!" Bright and wide was the Black Sea before him, the gull shrieked in the distant reeds, his white mustachios glistened like silver, and one tear rolled after another.

At last Tarass could bear it no longer: "Happen what will! I'll go and ascertain what has befallen him. Is he still alive? is he in his tomb? or is nothing left of him even in his tomb? I'll ascertain it at all events!"

And a week had hardly passed when he made his appearance in the town of Ooman, armed from head to foot, on horseback, with spear, with sabre, with a traveller's cask tied to his saddle, a pot of flour, cartridge box, horse shackles, and all other travelling implements. He rode straight towards a dirty cottage whose small smutty windows could hardly be distinguished, a rug was stuck into the chimney, and the dilapidated roof was covered with sparrows; a heap of all sorts of filth lay close to the entrance door. The head of a Jewess, in a head-dress with tarnished false pearls, was seen looking out of one of the windows.

"Is thy husband at home?" said Boolba, dismounting, and tying his horse's bridle to an iron hook beside the door.

"Yes," answered the Jewess, hastily coming out, with a scoop of wheat for the horse and a cup of beer for the rider.

"Where is thy Jew, then?"

"He is in the further room, praying," said the Jewess, bowing and wishing health to Boolba, as he carried the cup to his lips.

"Remain here, feed my horse, and give him some drink. I'll go and have a talk with your husband alone, I have business with him."

The Jew was our acquaintance Yankel. He had become a farmer and a brandy-shop keeper, had by degrees got into his power all the neighbouring lords and gentlemen, had by degrees sucked out almost all the money in the district, and had left strong marks of his Jewish presence in the country. For three hours' journey all around, no cottage remained which was not falling into ruins, everything went wrong, every one looked older, all had become drunkards, and all had become beggars clad in rags. The whole district seemed to have suffered from a fire or a plague. And had Yankel remained there but some ten years longer, the whole voevodship would certainly have undergone the same fate.

Tarass stepped into the room; the Jew was praying, his head covered with a tolerably dirty piece of linen, and he had just turned, in order to spit for the last time, according to the Jewish ritual, when his eyes suddenly met the figure of Boolba, who stood behind him. The two thousand ducats offered for Boolba's head rushed at once into the Jew's remembrance, but he felt ashamed of the thought, and endeavoured to get the better of this love of gold, which, like a worm, is always twining itself round every Jew's heart.

"Harkee, Yankel!" said Tarass to the Jew, who began bowing to him, and warily shut the door behind him, in order that nobody should see them. "I saved thy life; the Zaporoghians would have torn thee to pieces like a dog--now thy turn is come, now thou must render me a service!"

The Jew's face expressed some uneasiness: "What service? If it be such a service as one may render, why not render it?"

"_No_ talking! Take me to Warsaw!"

"To Warsaw? How so, to Warsaw?" said Yankel, with eyebrows and shoulders elevated in amazement.

"No talking! Take me to Warsaw. Come what will, I must see him once more! I must say, be it but one word to him."

"One word to whom?"

"To him, to Ostap, to my son!"

"Does not my lord know, then, that"--

"I know it, I know all. They have set a price of two thousand ducats upon my head. The fools, they did not even know its worth! I'll give five thousand ducats to thee. Here thou hast two thousand on the spot," and Boolba produced from his leathern bag two thousand ducats. "The rest when I come back."

The Jew took at once a piece of linen and covered the ducats with it. "Fine coins, these! beautiful coins!" said he, turning a ducat in his fingers and trying it with his teeth. "Methinks the man from whom my lord took such fine ducats, did not live an hour more, but just leaped into the water and drowned himself, after having lost these magnificent ducats."