Part 8

At times only might be seen the remote blue tops of the forests growing along the banks of the Dnieper. Once only, Tarass pointed out to his sons a small black spot at a great distance in the grass, and exclaimed, "Look, children, there is a Tartar!" A small mustachioed face peered at them with its narrow eyes, sniffed the air like a harrier, and disappeared at once, seeing there were thirteen Cossacks. "Well, lads, will you try to catch the Tartar? You had better not; you will never overtake him; his steed is swifter than my 'Devil.'" Yet, fearing some hidden mischief, he took his precautions. Coming to a narrow stream, which fell into a river, he ordered his followers to enter the water on horseback, and they did not continue their journey till they had swum a long way, to hide their track. Three days later, they were near the end of their journey. The air grew colder; they felt the proximity of the Dnieper. Behold! there it sparkles in the sun, and forms a wide dark streak beneath the sky; its cold waves come nearer and nearer, and on a sudden, surround half the horizon. It was at this part of the Dnieper that, after being compressed in its course by the rapids, it reconquered its liberty, and spreading out freely, roared like the ocean; the islands thrown in its centre made it rush still more vehemently towards the banks, and its waves rolled on the even ground without having to dash over any rocks or elevations. The Cossacks dismounted, got into a ferry-boat, and after a passage of three hours, they reached the island Khortitza, where, for the time being, was the camp of the Ssiecha, which so often changed its seat.

A crowd of people stood on the bank of the river quarrelling with the ferryman. The Cossacks adjusted their horses for mounting; Tarass assumed a dignified air, tightened his belt, and proudly twirled his mustachios. His young sons, too, looked at themselves from head to foot, with some unaccountable terror, and no less unaccountable pleasure. Then they all rode together into the suburb, which was about half a verst[12] from the Ssiecha. On entering it, they were deafened by the sound of fifty blacksmith's hammers, which fell with heavy strokes in five-and-twenty forges, dug in the ground and covered with grass. Strong tanners sat in the street at their own doors, and scutched ox-hides with their powerful hands; tradespeople sat under tents, loaded with flints, steels, and gunpowder; here, an Armenian has hung up costly handkerchiefs for sale; there, a Tartar is roasting pieces of mutton rolled in dough; there, a Jew, his head stretched forward, is drawing off corn-brandy from a cask. But the first man they saw was a Zaporoghian lying asleep in the very middle of the road, his arms and legs stretched far apart. Tarass Boolba could not help stopping to admire him.

"Now, is not this a glorious sight? Ah! what a fine sight!" said he, stopping his horse; and the sight was certainly a striking one. There lay the Zaporoghian, like a lion, full length on the road; his crown tuft, proudly thrown back, was fully a foot in length; his trousers were smeared with tar, in order to show his utter contempt for the costly scarlet cloth of which they were made. After remaining for a while looking at him, Boolba continued to thread his way through a narrow street, crowded by workmen, who, in the street itself, were working at their trade, and by people of every nation, who filled this suburb of the Ssiecha, which wore the appearance of a fair, and whence the Ssiecha derived its food and clothes; for the Ssiecha itself knew nothing beyond carousing and fighting.

At last, they left the suburb and saw some _koorens_[13] scattered about and covered with grass, or according to the Tartar fashion with cow-hair felt. About some of the koorens stood cannons. Nowhere could be seen any palisade, or any of the low cottages with sheds on short wooden columns, like those of the suburb. A small mound with a ditch, guarded by no living soul, was only a proof of the greatest carelessness. Some strongly-built Zaporoghians, who were lying on the very road, with their pipes between their teeth, coolly surveyed the riders, but did not even move. Tarass rode cautiously through the midst of them with his sons, and said, "Health be with you, gentlemen!"

"And with you, too;" answered the Zaporoghians.

In every direction the field was covered with motley groups of people. Their brown faces bespoke them at once to be hardened in war and inured to every privation.

So here is the _Ssiecha_! Here is that nest, whence take their flight all those men, as proud and strong as lions! Hence pour freedom and Cossackdom over all Ukraine!

The riders came to an extensive square, where the _Rada_[14] was accustomed to assemble. The first person they saw was a Zaporoghian, seated on a tub, who, having taken off his shirt, was holding it in his hand, slowly mending the holes in it. Then they were stopped in their progress by a troop of musicians, in the midst of whom was dancing a young Zaporoghian, his cap carelessly thrown on one ear and his hands wildly tossed in the air. He cried incessantly, "Quicker, quicker, musicians! and thou, Thomas, don't spare brandy for the Christians." And Thomas, with a black eye, was busily engaged in pouring out brandy for every new-comer. Near the young Zaporoghian four old ones were also dancing, sometimes with quick, tiny steps, then again with the rapidity of the wind, throwing themselves on one side, almost on the heads of the musicians, then on a sudden, bending their knees till they were almost in a sitting posture, and rushing thus from side to side, making the hard-beaten earth ring with the heavy sonorous strokes of their silver-rimmed heels. The ground gave back a rumbling sound through all the vicinity, and the air at a great distance re-echoed the noisy trampling of their boots. But there was one among the dancers who shouted still louder, and rushed about still more impetuously than the others. His long crown-lock floated in the wind, his sinewy breast was naked; he had on his warm sheepskin coat, and the perspiration poured down his brow, as from out of a jug. "Well, now, take thy coat off," said Tarass at last; "dost thou not feel the heat?"

"No, I cannot," answered the Zaporoghian.

"And why not?"

"I cannot; such is my habit, that what is once off, I give up for brandy."

And long since, indeed, had the lad had no cap, no belt to his coat, no embroidered handkerchief; they had all gone the way one might expect. The farther the crowd extended, the denser it grew; new dancers came every moment; and strange were the feelings excited at watching the freest and most furious dance the world ever beheld, and which, from the name of its mighty inventors is called the "Cossack."

"Ah, were it not for my horse!" cried Tarass, "I would, by Heavens I would, go into the dance too."

And meanwhile, amongst other people, they met some of the elderly Cossacks, with old gray crown-locks, who were held in great respect by all the Ssiecha, and had been many times chosen Elders. Tarass was not long without meeting many well-known faces. Ostap and Andrew heard nothing but greetings such as these:--"Ah, here thou art, Petcheritza!" "Good day, Kozoloop!" "In Heaven's name, whence comest thou, Tarass?" "Why art thou here, Doloto?" "Good day, Kirdiaga!" "Good day, Gostoi!" "Who would have thought to see thee, Remen!" And warriors, assembled from the whole of the loose world of Western Russia, embraced one another. Next came the questions:--"And what of Kassian? where is Borodavka? where Koloper? where Pidsyschok?" But Tarass Boolba only got for answer that Borodavka had been hanged by the Poles, that Koloper had been flayed alive by the Tartars, that Pidsyschok's head had been salted and sent in a tub to Constantinople. Old Tarass bent his head and thoughtfully muttered, "Good Cossacks were they!"

III.

Tarass Boolba and his sons had remained already more than a week at the Ssiecha. Ostap and Andrew had not yet much profited by warlike exercises. The Zaporoghians did not like spending their time in the mimicry of war; the education and martial accomplishments of the young were acquired by experience alone, during the raging of battles which, for the same reason, were almost incessant. The Cossacks found it dull work to employ their leisure in learning discipline, and if they ever studied anything it was shooting at a target, and sometimes pursuing on horseback the wild animals of the steppes; the whole remaining time was given up to carousing--the proof of a widely diffused freedom. The whole Ssiecha presented a strange scene; it was like an unceasing festival, a banquet which had begun noisily and forgotten to end. Some Zaporoghians were occupied in different handicrafts; others had shops and busied themselves with trade; but the greater part feasted from morning till night, as long as the possibility of feasting jingled in their pockets, and as long as the conquered booty had not found its way into the hands of the tradesmen and the proprietors of brandy-shops. This universal festival had something seductive about it; it was not an assembly of men who had been driven to drunkenness by grief; it was nothing but the maddest expression of mirth. Every one who had found his way thither, forgot and at once cast off everything which had till then occupied his mind. He seemed to drive away all his past life, and to give himself up, soul and body, with the fanaticism of a new convert, to freedom and to comradeship, with men who, like himself, had no relations, nor home, nor family, and to whom nothing was left but the canopy of Heaven, and the unintermittent festival of their hearts. This gave rise to that mad gaiety, which could never have found any other source. The tales and narratives which might be heard among the groups lazily reclining upon the ground, were often so droll and breathed such lively animation, that one must needs have had the immoveable features of a Zaporoghian to have kept an indifferent countenance and never so much as curled the lip; and this, indeed, is one of the most striking features which distinguish the Southern Russian from the rest of the Russians. The mirth was provoked by wine, was attended by noise, but yet there were none of those disfigured outlines of a caricatured gaiety, which one finds in the dirty brandy shop. It was the friendly circle of schoolfellows. The only difference consisted in this, that instead of poring over books, and listening to the stupid lessons of professors, these schoolfellows made invasions, mounted on about five thousand horses; that instead of the field in which they had formerly played at ball, they now had, unguarded and uncared for, boundaries beyond which might be seen the swift head of the Tartar, and the Turk haughtily glancing from beneath his green turban. The difference was this, that instead of the forced will which had brought them together at school, they had, of their own free choice, left their fathers and mothers and fled from the parental roof. Here were to be found those who had already felt the halter dangling about their necks, and who, instead of pale-faced death, had found life, and life in its utmost gaiety. Here were those who followed the noble principle of never retaining a farthing about them. Here were those, who, thanks to the Jews, tenants of Polish lords, could always have their pockets turned inside out without the fear of losing anything. Here were all the collegians, who had not had the patience to endure the college rods, and who, of all their school learning, had not retained so much as the alphabet. But besides these, here were to be found some who knew who Horace was, who Cicero, and what the Roman Republic. Here were many who afterwards acquired distinction as officers in the army of the King of Poland. Here were many experienced volunteers who felt the noble conviction that it was quite the same thing where and why the war took place so that wars were made, and that no man of noble feelings could remain without fighting. Many more were here who had come into the Ssiecha for no other purpose, but that they might say afterwards that they had been there, and that they were hardened warriors. But what, indeed, were the characters that could not be found here? Those who liked warfare, who liked gilded cups, who liked rich stuffs, or gold and silver coins, could at all times find employment here. Those only who worshipped womankind could find nothing to suit their taste; for no woman was allowed so much as to show her face even in the suburb of the Ssiecha.

During their abode in the Ssiecha, Ostap and Andrew were much astonished at seeing that crowds of people came, without so much as any one asking whence they came, or what were their names. They came thither as if they were returning to their own homes which they had but recently quitted. The new-comer only went to the Koschevoï Ataman,[15] who addressed him in these terms:--

"Good day! dost thou believe in Christ?

"I do;" answered the new-comer.

"And dost thou believe in the Holy Trinity?"

"I do."

"And dost thou go to church?"

"I do."

"Make the sign of the cross!"

The new-comer made it.

"Well," said the Koschevoï, "thou mayest go into whichever kooren thou pleasest."

And thus the ceremony ended.

The whole population of the Ssiecha went to the same church, which they were ready to defend to the last drop of their blood; and yet the Cossacks would never attend to fasts and abstinence. The suburb was chiefly inhabited by Jews, Armenians, and Tartars, who, incited by the love of gain, dared to live and to have shops there, knowing that the Zaporoghians never bargained, but paid as much money as their hands took out of their pockets. But the fate of these greedy tradespeople was much to be pitied; they were like those who build their houses at the foot of Vesuvius: as soon as the Zaporoghians had no money left, the most desperate among them pillaged the shops, and carried away everything without payment.

The Ssiecha consisted of upwards of sixty koorens, which were very like so many independent republics, and still more like so many boarding-schools. No one provided any furniture or food for himself; the Koorennoï Ataman[16] had charge of everything, and was called on this account "father." He kept the money, the clothes, the furniture, the flour, the oats, and even the fuel; all money was deposited with him. It was no rare occurrence that one kooren quarrelled with another; on such occasions, fighting immediately ensued. The rival koorens rushed into the field, and fought till one of them got the upper hand, and then all ended in a general carouse.

Such was this Ssiecha, which had so many attractions for young men.

Ostap and Andrew plunged at once with the heedlessness of youth into this sea of pleasure, forgetting in no time their father's roof, the college, and all that had till then occupied their thoughts, and they gave themselves entirely up to this new mode of life. Everything was strange to them; the loose habits of the Ssiecha, its unsophisticated laws and administration, which even then seemed to them too severe in such a self-willed community. If a Cossack had committed theft, were it but of the most insignificant rubbish, his fault was reputed to be a shame to the whole community; he was, as a dishonourable person, tied to a pillory, and beside him was placed a club, with which every one who passed by might give him a blow, until the criminal expired. An insolvent debtor was fastened to a cannon, and remained there till some of his comrades ransomed him and paid his debts. But the greatest impression made on Andrew was produced by the terrible penalty prescribed for murder. Before his eyes, a hole was dug in the ground, the murderer was put into it alive, and over him was placed the coffin containing the corpse of the man whom he had murdered; then both were covered with earth, and the hole was filled up. For a long time the dreadful ceremony of this punishment haunted Andrew, and he thought he saw again and again the man buried alive with the terrible coffin.

Both youths soon gained the best repute among the Cossacks. Often did they go together with some comrades of their kooren, sometimes with the whole kooren, and with other koorens too, to shoot in the steppes an innumerable quantity of wild birds, stags, and goats; or they resorted to the lakes, rivers, and arms of the Dnieper, assigned to every kooren by lot, to throw their fishing nets and bring to land a rich booty of fish, sufficient to feed the whole kooren. It was not as yet a trial of true Cossack life, but still they succeeded in distinguishing themselves from among other youths by their audacity and their dexterity in everything. They never missed their aim when shooting, and they swam across the Dnieper against the current, an exploit for which every new-comer was triumphantly admitted into the assemblies of the Cossacks.

But Tarass was preparing a new scene of action for them; he did not like this idle mode of life; he desired real activity for them. After ruminating for a while how to raise the Ssiecha on some daring enterprise, where one might find true knightly exploits to perform, he, at last, went one day to the Koschevoï, and said to him, abruptly:

"Koschevoï, it is high time for the Zaporoghians to take the air in the field."

"There is nowhere to take it," answered the Koschevoï, taking his pipe out of his mouth, and spitting-on one side.

"How so? Nowhere? There are the Turks; there are the Tartars!"

"We cannot go either against Turks or against Tartars," answered the Koschevoï, coolly resuming his pipe.

"And why not?"

"So it is; we have promised peace to the Sultan."

"But is he not an unbeliever? Well, do not the Scriptures order us to combat all unbelievers?"

"We have no right to do it; had we not sworn by our faith, well, maybe we might have done it; but now, no, we cannot."

"Why can we not? Why dost thou say we have no right? Here have I two sons, both of them young men. Neither the one nor the other have ever seen war, and thou sayest, 'we have no right;' and thou sayest, 'the Zaporoghians cannot go to war.'"

"So it must be."

"So then, the Cossack's strength must run to seed? So men must end their lives like so many dogs, without having been of any use to their country, or to Christendom? What do we live for, then? What the devil is the use of our life; tell me that? Thou art a sensible man; there was some reason for electing thee Koschevoï; tell me, what do we live for?"

The Koschevoï left the question unanswered. He was a stubborn Cossack; he remained silent for a while, and then said, "Nevertheless, there can be no war."

"So there will be no war?" once more asked Tarass.

"No."

"So it is of no use to think of it?"

"It is of no use."

"Well, wait a little, thou--devil's fist!" said Boolba to himself. "I'll teach thee to know me!" And he resolved on the spot to take his revenge of the Koschevoï.

After having talked first with one and then another, he made up a drinking party, and a number of tipsy Cossacks rushed to the public square; here, tied to a pole, were the kettle-drums, which were used for summoning the _rada_[17] but not finding the sticks, which were in charge of an official called _doobish_, they caught up logs of wood, and began beating the drums with them. The first who appeared on hearing the sound of the drums was the doobish, a tall one-eyed man, whose only eye was still very sleepy.

"Who dares to beat the drum?" cried he.

"Be silent; take thy sticks, and beat the drum when thou art ordered to do so," answered the tipsy elders.

The doobish complied at once, and took out the sticks, which he had brought in his pocket, being well acquainted with the usual end of such occurrences. The kettle-drums resounded, and soon dark crowds of Zaporoghians were seen swarming like bees into the square. All assembled in a circle, and after the third beating of the drum, came at last the chiefs: the Koschevoï with the mace, token of his dignity; the judge, with the seal of the Ssiecha; the secretary, with his inkstand, and the essaool with the staff. The Koschevoï, and the other dignitaries, took off their caps, and bowed on every side to the Cossacks, who stood haughtily holding their arms a-kimbo.

"What means this assembly? What do you wish, gentlemen?" said the Koschevoï.

Clamours and scolding words put a stop to his speech.

"Lay down thy mace, lay it down directly, devil's son!--we do not want thee any more!" shrieked some Cossacks from the crowd. Some of the sober koorens seemed to resist, but tipsy and sober koorens came to blows. The shouts and noise became general.

The Koschevoï tried to speak, but knowing that the infuriated self-willed crowd might perhaps beat him to death for it, and that such was almost always the end of such riots, he bowed very low, laid down the mace, and disappeared among the people.

"Do you order, gentlemen, that we too lay down the tokens of our rank?" said the judge, the secretary, and the essaool, ready to resign the seal, the inkstand, and the staff.

"Not you; you may remain; we only wanted to drive away the Koschevoï, because he is an old woman, and we need a man for a Koschevoï!"

"Whom will you choose for your Koschevoï?" asked the dignitaries.

"Choose Kookoobenko!" cried one side.

"We will not have Kookoobenko!" cried the other. "'Tis early for him; his mother's milk is yet wet upon his lips!"

"Let Shilo be the Ataman," cried some. "Shilo must be Koschevoï!"

"Away with Shilo!" shouted the angry crowd.

"Is he a Cossack, to have thieved like a Tartar, the dog's son I To the devil with the drunkard Shilo!"

"Let us choose Borodaty--Borodaty!"

"We will not have Borodaty; a curse upon Borodaty!"

"Shout for Kirdiaga," whispered Tarass Boolba.

"Kirdiaga, Kirdiaga," shouted the crowd. "Borodaty! Borodaty!"--"Kirdiaga! Kirdiaga!"

"Shilo!"--"The devil take Shilo!"--"Kirdiaga!"

Each of the proposed candidates, on hearing his name shouted, instantly quitted the crowd, to leave no room for suspecting his personal influence in the election.

"Kirdiaga! Kirdiaga!" was heard above all.

"Borodaty!"

Blows succeeded to words, and Kirdiaga's party got the better.

"Go and fetch Kirdiaga!" was now the cry.

Some ten Cossacks directly stepped out of the crowd; many of them hardly stood upon their legs, such was the strength of the spirits they had swallowed; they went straight to Kirdiaga, to notify to him his election.

Kirdiaga, a clever old Cossack, had already been some time seated in his kooren, and looked as if quite unconscious of what had just taken place. "What do you want, gentlemen?" asked he.

"Go; thou art elected to be the Koschevoï."

"Be merciful, gentlemen!" said Kirdiaga. "I am by no means worthy of such an honour; I have not sense enough for a rank like that; is there no one better than I to be found in the whole Ssiecha?"

"Go, when thou art told to go!" cried the Zaporoghians. Two of them took hold of his arms, and in vain did he endeavour to stay his feet. He was at last brought into the square, pushed from behind by blows and pokes, receiving such scoldings and admonitions as--"Don't draw back, thou devil's son!" "Take the honour, dog, when they give it to thee!"

In such a manner Kirdiaga was brought into the midst of the Cossack circle.

"Gentlemen!" cried those who had brought him, "are you willing to have this Cossack for your Koschevoï?"

"We are, all of us!" shouted the crowd; and the field resounded far and wide with the cry.