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greeted me with the following words:  〃Good…day; you damned

heretic!〃



Astonished at this epithet; I asked her why she called me a 

heretic。  She answered boldly:  〃Because you forbid a young 

man to love women; you devil。  How can you forbid what is 

allowed by law?  Damn you; you devil!〃



Shakro stood beside her; nodding his head approvingly。  He was 

very tipsy; and he rocked backward and forward unsteadily on 

his legs。  His lower lip drooped helplessly。  His dim eyes 

stared at me with vacant obstinacy。





219  MY FELLOW…TRAVELLER





〃Come; what are you looking at us for?  Give him his money?〃 

shouted the undaunted woman。



〃What money?〃 I exclaimed; astonished。



〃Give it back at once; or I'll take you before the ataman! 

Return the hundred and fifty roubles; which you borrowed from 

him in Odessa!〃



What was I to do?  The drunken creature might really go and 

complain to the Ataman; the Atamans were always very severe 

on any kind of tramp; and he might arrest us。  Heaven only 

knew what trouble my arrest might inflict; not only on myself; 

but on Shakro!  There was nothing for it but to try and outwit

the woman; which was not; of course; a difficult matter。



She was pacified after she had disposed of three bottles of 

vodka。  She sank heavily to the ground; on a bed of melons; 

and fell asleep。  Then I put Shakro to sleep also。



Early next morning we turned our backs on the village; leaving 

the woman sound asleep among the melons。



After his bout of drunkenness; Shakro; looking far from well; 

and with a swollen; blotchy face; walked slowly along; every 

now and then spitting on one side; and sighing deeply。  I tried 

to begin a conversation with him; but he did not respond。  He 

shook his unkempt head; as does a tired horse。



It was a hot day; the air was full of heavy vapors; rising from 

the damp soil; where the thick; lush grass grew abundantly

almost as high as our heads。  Around us; on all sides; 

stretched a motionless sea of velvety green grass。 





220  MY FELLOW…TRAVELLER





The hot air was steeped in strong sappy perfumes; which made 

one's head swim。



To shorten our way; we took a narrow path; where numbers of 

small red snakes glided about; coiling up under our feet。  On 

the horizon to our right; were ranges of cloudy summits 

flashing silvery in the sun。  It was the mountain chain of the 

Daguestan Hills。



The stillness that reigned made one feel drowsy; and plunged 

one into a sort of dreamy state。  Dark; heavy clouds; rolling 

up behind us; swept slowly across the heavens。  They gathered 

at our backs; and the sky there grew dark; while in front of 

us it still showed clear; except for a few fleecy cloudlets; 

racing merrily across the open。  But the gathering clouds grew 

darker and swifter。  In the distance could be heard the rattle 

of thunder; and its angry rumbling came every moment nearer。 

Large drops of rain fell; pattering on the grass; with a sound 

like the clang of metal。  There was no place where we could 

take shelter。  It had grown dark。  The patter of the rain on 

the grass was louder still; but it lad a frightened; timid 

sound。  There was a clap of thunder; and the clouds shuddered 

in a blue flash of lightning。  Again it was dark and the 

silvery chain of distant mountains was lost in the gloom。  The 

rain now was falling in torrents; and one after another peals

of thunder rumbled menacingly and incessantly over the vast 

steppe。  The grass; beaten down by the wind and rain; lay flat 

on the ground; rustling faintly。  Everything seemed quivering 

and troubled。  Flashes of blinding lightning tore the storm 

clouds asunder。  





221  MY FELLOW…TRAVELLER





The silvery; cold chain of the distant 

mountains sprang up in the blue flash and gleamed with blue 

light。  When the lightning died away; the mountains vanished; 

as though flung back into an abyss of darkness。  The air was 

filled with rumblings and vibrations; with sounds and echoes。  

The lowering; angry sky seemed purifying itself by fire; from 

the dust and the foulness which had risen toward it from the 

earth; and the earth; it seemed; was quaking in terror at its 

wrath。  Shakro was shaking and whimpering like a scared dog。  

But I felt elated and lifted above commonplace life as I 

watched the mighty; gloomy spectacle of the storm on the 

steppe。  This unearthly chaos enchanted me and exalted me to

an heroic mood; filling my soul with its wild; fierce harmony。



And I longed to take part in it; and to express; in some way 

or other; the rapture that filled my heart to overflowing; in 

the presence of the mysterious force which scatters gloom; 

and gathering clouds。  The blue light which lit up the sky 

seemed to gleam in my soul too; and how was I to express my 

passion and my ecstasy at the grandeur of nature?  I sang 

aloud; at the top of my voice。  The thunder roared; the 

lightning flashed; the grass whispered; while I sang and felt 

myself in close kinship with nature's music。  I was delirious; 

and it was pardonable; for it harmed no one but myself。  I was 

filled with the desire to absorb; as much as possible; the 

mighty; living beauty and force that was raging on the steppe; 

and to get closer to it。  A tempest at sea; and a thunderstorm 

on the steppes!  I know nothing grander in nature。  And so I 

shouted to my heart's content; in the absolute belief that I

troubled no one; nor placed any one in a position to criticize 

my action。  But suddenly; I felt my legs seized; and I fell 

helpless into a pool of water。





222  MY FELLOW…TRAVELLER





Shakro was looking into my face with serious and wrathful eyes。



〃Are you mad?  Aren't you?  No?  Well; then; be quiet!  Don't 

shout!  I'll cut your throat!  Do you understand?〃



I was amazed; and I asked him first what harm I was doing him?



〃Why; you're frightening me!  It's thundering; God is speaking; 

and you bawl。  What are you thinking about?〃



I replied that I had a right to sing whenever I chose。  Just as 

he had。



〃But I don't want to!〃 he said。



〃Well; don't sing then!〃 I assented。



〃And don't you sing!〃 insisted Shakro。



〃Yes; I mean to sing!〃



〃Stop! What are you thinking about?〃 he went on angrily。  〃Who 

are you?  You have neither home nor father; nor mother; you 

have no relations; no land!  Who are you?  Are you anybody; do 

you suppose?  It's I am somebody in the world!  I have 

everything!〃



He slapped his chest vehemently。



〃I'm a prince; and youyou're nobodynothing!  You say

you're this and that!  Who else says so?  All Koutais and 

Tiflies know me!  You shall not contradict me!  Do you hear? 

Are you not my servant?  I'll pay ten times over for all you 

have done for me。  You shall obey me!  You said yourself that 

God taught us to serve each other without seeking for a reward; 

but I'll reward you。





223  MY FELLOW…TRAVELLER





〃Why will you annoy me; preaching to me; and frightening me? 

Do you want me to be like you?  That's too bad!  You can't 

make me like yourself!  Foo!  Foo!〃



He talked; smacked his lips; snuffled; and sighed。  I stood 

staring at him; open…mouthed with astonishment。  He was 

evidently pouring out now all the discontent; displeasure and 

disgust; which had been gathering up during the whole of our 

journey。  To convince me more thoroughly; he poked me in the 

chest from time to time with his forefinger; and shook me by 

the shoulder。  During the most impressive parts of his speech 

he pushed up against me with his whole massive body。  The rain

was pouring down on us; the thunder never ceased its muttering; 

and to make me hear; Shakro shouted at the top of his voice。 

The tragic comedy of my position struck me more vividly than 

ever; and I burst into a wild fit of laughter。  Shakro turned 

away and spat。



CHAPTER X



The nearer we draw to Tiflis; the gloomier and the surlier grew 

Shakro。  His thinner; but still stolid face wore a new 

expression。  Just before we reached Vladikavkas we passed 

through a Circassian village; where we obtained work in some 

maize fields。



The Circassians spoke very little Russian; and as they 

constantly laughed at us; and scolded us in their own language; 

we resolved to leave the village two days after our arrival; 

their increasing enmity had begun to alarm us。





224  MY FELLOW…TRAVELLER





We had left the village about ten miles behind; when Shakro 

produced from his shirt a roll of home…spun muslin; and handing 

it to me; exclaimed triumphantly:



〃You need not work any more now。  We can sell this; and buy all 

we want till we get to Tiflis!  Do you see?〃



I was moved to fury; and tearing the bundle from his hands; I 

flung it away; glancing back。



The Circassians are not to be trifled with!  Only a short time 

before; the Cossacks had told us the following story:



A tramp; who had been working for some time in a Circassian 

village; stole an iron spoon; and carried it away with him。 The 

Circassians followed him; searched him; and found the iron 

spoon。  They ripped open his body with a dagger; and after 

pushing the iron spoon into the wound; went off quietly; 

leaving him to his fate on the steppes。  He was found by some 

Cossacks at the point of death。  He told them this story; and 

died on the way to their village。  The Cossacks had more than 

once warned us against the Circassians; relating many other 

edifying tales of the same sort。  I had no reason to doubt the 

accuracy of these stories。  I reminded Shakro of these facts。 

For some time he listened in silence to what I was saying; 

then; suddenly; showing his teeth and screwing up his eyes; 

he flew at me like a wild cat。  We struggled for five minutes 

or so; till Shakro exclaimed a

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