CHAPTER XLI.
The towns through which Basia passed in going from Hreptyoff toRashkoff were separated from each other by ten or twelve Ukrainemiles,[26] and that road by the Dniester was about thirty miles long.It is true that they started each morning in the dark, and did not stoptill late in the evening; still, they made the whole journey, includingtime for refreshment, and in spite of difficult crossings and passages,in three days. People of that time and troops did not make such quickjourneys usually; but whoso had the will, or was put to it, could makethem. In view of this, Basia calculated that the journey back toHreptyoff ought to take less time, especially as she was making it onhorseback, and as it was a flight in which salvation depended onswiftness.
But she noted her error the first day, for unable to escape on the roadby the Dniester, she went through the steppes and had to make broadcircuits. Besides she might go astray, and it was probable that shewould; she might meet with thawed rivers, impassable, dense forests,swamps not freezing even in winter; she might come to harm from peopleor beasts,--therefore, though she intended to push on continually, evenat night, she was confirmed in the conviction in spite of herself that,even if all went well with her, God knew when she would be inHreptyoff.
She had succeeded in tearing herself from the arms of Azya; but whatwould happen farther on? Doubtless anything was better than thoseinfamous arms; still, at thought of what was awaiting her the bloodbecame icy in her veins.
It occurred at once to her that if she spared the horses she might beovertaken by Azya's men, who knew those steppes thoroughly; and to hidefrom discovery, from pursuit, was almost impossible. They pursuedTartars whole days even in spring and summer when horses' hoofs left notrace on the snow or in soft earth; they read the steppe as an openbook; they gazed over those plains like eagles; they knew how to sniffa trail in them like hunting dogs; their whole life was passed inpursuing. Vainly had Tartars gone time and again in the water ofstreams so as not to leave traces; Cossacks, Lithuanian Tartars, andCheremis, as well as Polish raiders of the steppe, knew how to findthem, to answer their "methods" with "methods," and to attack assuddenly as if they had sprung up through the earth. How was she toescape from such people unless to leave them so far in the rear thatdistance itself would make pursuit impossible? But in such an event herhorses would fall.
"They will fall dead without fail, if they continue to go as they havegone so far," thought Basia, with terror, looking at their wet,steaming sides, and at the foam which was falling in flakes to theground.
Therefore she slackened their speed from time to time and listened; butin every breath of wind, in the rustling of leaves on the edge ofravines, in the dry rubbing of the withered steppe reeds against oneanother, in the noise made by the wings of a passing bird, even in thesilence of the wilderness, which was sounding in her ears, she heardvoices of pursuit, and terrified urged on her horses again, and ranwith wild impetus till their snorting declared that they could notcontinue at that speed.
The burden of loneliness and weakness pressed her down more and more.Ah! what an orphan she felt herself; what regret, as immense asunreasoning, rose in her heart for all people, the nearest and dearest,who had so forsaken her! Then she thought that surely it was Godpunishing her for her passion for adventures, for her hurrying to everyhunt, to expeditions, frequently against the will of her husband; forher giddiness and lack of sedateness.
When she thought of this she wept, and raising her head began torepeat, sobbing,--
"Chastise, but do not desert me! Do not punish Michael! Michael isinnocent."
Meanwhile night was approaching, and with it cold, darkness,uncertainty of the road, and alarm. Objects had begun to effacethemselves, grow dim, lose definite forms, and also to become, as itwere, mysteriously alive and expectant. Protuberances on lofty rockslooked like heads in pointed and round caps,--heads peering out frombehind gigantic walls of some kind, and gazing in silence and malignityto see who was passing below. Tree branches, stirred by the breeze,made motions like people: some of these beckoned to Basia as if wishingto call her and confide to her some terrible secret; others seemed tospeak and give warning: "Do not come near!" The trunks of uprootedtrees seemed like monstrous creatures crouching for a spring. Basia wasdaring, very daring, but, like all people of that period, she wassuperstitious. When darkness came down completely, the hair rose on herhead, and shivers passed through her body at thought of the uncleanpowers that might dwell in those regions. She feared vampiresespecially; belief in them was spread particularly in the Dniestercountry by reason of nearness to Moldavia, and just the places aroundYampol and Rashkoff were ill-famed in that regard. How many peoplethere left the world day by day through sudden death, withoutconfession or absolution! Basia remembered all the tales which theknights had told at Hreptyoff, on evenings at the fireside,--stories ofdeep valleys in which, when the wind howled, sudden groans were heardof "Jesus, Jesus!" of pale lights in which something was snorting; oflaughing cliffs; of pale children, suckling infants with green eyes andmonstrous heads,--infants which implored to be taken on horseback, andwhen taken began to suck blood; finally, of heads without bodies,walking on spider legs; and most terrible of all those ghastlinesses,vampires of full size, or brukolaki, so called in Wallachia, who hurledthemselves on people directly.
Then she began to make the sign of the cross, and she did not stop tillher hand had grown weak; but even then she repeated the litany, for noother weapons were effective against unclean powers.
The horses gave her consolation, for they showed no fear, snortingbriskly. At times she patted her pony, as if wishing in that way toconvince herself that she was in a real world.
The night, very dark at first, became clearer by degrees, and at lastthe stars began to glimmer through the thin mist. For Basia this was anuncommonly favorable circumstance,--first, because her fear decreased;and secondly, because by observing the Great Bear, she could turn tothe north, or in the direction of Hreptyoff. Looking on the regionabout, she calculated that she had gone a considerable distance fromthe Dniester; for there were fewer rocks, more open country, more hillscovered with oak groves, and frequently broad plains. Time after time,however, she was forced to cross ravines, and she went down into themwith fear in her heart, for in the depths of those places it was alwaysdark, and a harsh, piercing cold was there. Some were so steep that shewas forced to go around them; from this came great loss of time and anaddition to the journey.
It was worse, however, with streams and rivers, and a whole system ofthese flowed from the East to the Dniester. All were thawed, and thehorses snorted with fear when they went at night into strange water ofunknown depth. Basia crossed only in places where the sloping bankallowed the supposition that the water, widely spread there, wasshallow. In fact, it was so in most cases; at some crossings, however,the water reached halfway to the backs of her horses: Basia then knelt,in soldier fashion, on the saddle, and, holding to the pommel, triednot to wet her feet. But she did not succeed always in this, and soon apiercing cold seized her from feet to knees.
"God give me daylight, I will go more quickly," repeated she, from timeto time.
At last she rode out onto a broad plain with a sparse forest, andseeing that the horses were barely dragging their legs, she halted forrest. Both stretched their necks to the ground at the same time, andputting forward one foot, began to pluck moss and withered grasseagerly. In the forest there was perfect silence, unbroken save by thesharp breathing of the horses and the crunching of the grass in theirpowerful jaws.
When they had satisfied, or rather deceived, their first hunger, bothhorses wished evidently to roll, but Basia might not indulge them inthat. She dared not loosen the girths and come to the ground herself,for she wished to be ready at every moment for further flight.
She sat on Azya's horse, however, for her own had carried her from thelast resting-place, and though strong, and with noble blood in hisveins, he was more delicate than the other.
&nb
sp; When she had changed horses, she felt a hunger after the thirst whichshe had quenched a number of times while crossing the rivers; she begantherefore to eat the seeds which she had found in the bag at Azya'ssaddle-bow. They seemed to her very good, though a little bitter; sheate, thanking God for the unlooked-for refreshment.
But she ate sparingly, so that they might last to Hreptyoff. Soon sleepbegan to close her eyelids with irresistible power; and when themovement of the horse ceased to give warmth, a sharp cold pierced her.Her feet were perfectly stiff; she felt also an immeasurable wearinessin her whole body, especially in her back and shoulders, strained withstruggling against Azya. A great weakness seized her, and her eyesclosed.
But after a while she opened them with effort. "No! In the daytime, intime of journeying, I will sleep," thought she; "but if I sleep now Ishall freeze."
But her thoughts grew more confused, or came helter-skelter, presentingdisordered images,--in which the forest, flight and pursuit, Azya, thelittle knight, Eva, and the last event were mingled together half in adream, half in clear vision. All this was rushing on somewhere as wavesrush driven by the wind; and she, Basia, runs with them, without fear,without joy, as if she were travelling by contract. Azya, as it were,was pursuing her, but at the same time was talking to her, and anxiousabout the horse; Pan Zagloba was angry because supper would get cold;Michael was showing the road; and Eva was coming behind in the sleigh,eating dates.
Then those persons became more and more effaced, as if a foggy curtainor darkness had begun to conceal them, and they vanished by degrees;there remained only a certain strange darkness, which, though the eyedid not pierce it, seemed still to be empty, and to extend animmeasurable distance. This darkness penetrated every place, penetratedBasia's head, and quenched in it all visions, all thoughts, as a blastof wind quenches torches at night in the open air.
Basia fell asleep; but fortunately for her, before the cold couldstiffen the blood in her veins, an unusual noise roused her. The horsesstarted on a sudden; evidently something uncommon was happening in theforest.
Basia, regaining consciousness in one moment, grasped Azya's musket,and bending on the horse, with collected attention and distendednostrils, began to listen. Hers was a nature of such kind that everyperil roused wariness at the first twinkle of an eye, daring andreadiness for defence.
The noise which roused her was the grunting of wild pigs. Whetherbeasts were stealing up to the young pigs, or the old boars were goingto fight, it is enough that the whole forest resounded immediately.That uproar took place beyond doubt at a distance; but in the stillnessof night, and the general drowsiness, it seemed so near that Basiaheard not only grunting and squeals, but the loud whistle of nostrilsbreathing heavily. Suddenly a breaking and tramp, the crash of brokentwigs, and a whole herd, though invisible to Basia, rushed past in theneighborhood, and sank in the depth of the forest.
But in that incorrigible Basia, notwithstanding her terrible position,the feeling of a hunter was roused in a twinkle, and she was sorry thatshe had not seen the herd rushing by.
"One would like to see a little," said she, in her mind; "but nomatter! Riding in this way through forests, surely I shall seesomething yet."
And only after that thought did she push on, remembering that it wasbetter to see nothing and flee with all speed.
It was impossible to halt longer, because the cold seized her moreacutely, and the movement of the horse warmed her a good deal, whilewearying her comparatively little. But the horses, having snatchedmerely some moss and frozen grass, moved very reluctantly, and withdrooping heads. The hoar-frost in time of halting had covered theirsides, and it seemed that they barely dragged their legs forward. Theyhad gone, moreover, since the afternoon rest almost without drawingbreath.
When she had crossed the plain, with her eyes fixed on the Great Bearin the heavens, Basia disappeared in the forest, which was not verydense, but in a hilly region intersected with narrow ravines. It becamedarker too; not only because of the shade cast by spreading trees, butalso because a fog rose from the earth and hid the stars. She wasforced to go at random. The ravines alone gave some indication that shewas taking the right course, for she knew that they all extended fromthe east toward the Dniester, and that by crossing new ones, she wasgoing continually toward the north. But in spite of this indication,she thought, "I am ever in danger of approaching the Dniester toonearly, or of going too far from it. To do either is perilous; in thefirst case, I should make an enormous journey; in the second, I mightcome out at Yampol, and fall into the hands of my enemies." Whether shewas yet before Yampol, or just on the heights above it, or had leftthat place behind, of this she had not the faintest idea.
"There is more chance to know when I pass Mohiloff," said she; "for itlies in a great ravine, which extends far; perhaps I shall recognizeit."
Then she looked at the sky and thought: "God grant me only to go beyondMohiloff; for there Michael's dominion begins; there nothing willfrighten me."
Now the night became darker. Fortunately snow was lying in the forest,and on the white ground she could distinguish the dark trunks of trees,see the lower limbs and avoid them. But Basia had to ride more slowly;therefore that terror of unclean powers fell on her soul again,--thatterror which in the beginning of the night had chilled her blood as ifwith ice.
"But if I see gleaming eyes low down," said she to her frightened soul,"that's nothing! it will be a wolf; but if at the height of a man--" Atthat moment, she cried aloud, "In the name of the Father, Son--"
Was that, perhaps, a wild-cat sitting on a limb? It is sufficient thatBasia saw clearly a pair of gleaming eyes, at the height of a man.
From fear, her eyes were covered with a mist; but when she looked againthere was nothing to be seen, and nothing heard beyond a rustle amongthe branches, but her heart beat as loudly as if it would burst openher bosom.
And she rode farther; long, long, she rode, sighing for the light ofday; but the night stretched out beyond measure. Soon after, a riverbarred her road again. Basia was already far enough beyond Yampol, onthe bank of the Rosava; but without knowledge of where she was, shethought merely that if she continued to push forward to the north, shewould soon meet a new river. She thought too that the night must benear its end; for the cold increased sensibly, the fog fell away, andstars appeared again, but dimmer, beaming with uncertain light.
At length darkness began to pale. Trunks of trees, branches, twigs,grew more visible. Perfect silence reigned in the forest,--the dawn hadcome.
After a certain time Basia could distinguish the color of the horses.At last in the east, among the branches of the trees, a bright streakappeared,--the day was there, a clear day.
Basia felt weariness immeasurable. Her mouth opened in continualyawning, and her eyes closed soon after; she slept soundly but a shorttime, for a branch, against which her head came, roused her. Happilythe horses were going very slowly, nipping moss by the way; hence theblow was so slight that it caused her no harm. The sun had risen, andwas pale; its beautiful rays broke through leafless branches. At sightof this, consolation entered Basia's heart; she had left between herand pursuit so many steppes, mountains, ravines, and a whole night.
"If those from Yampol, or Mohiloff, do not seize me, others will notcome up," said she to herself.
She reckoned on this too,--that in the beginning of her flight she hadgone by a rocky road, therefore hoofs could leave no traces. But doubtbegan to seize her again. The Lithuanian Tartars will find tracks evenon stones, and will pursue stubbornly, unless their horses fall dead;this last supposition was most likely. It was sufficient for Basia tolook at her own beasts; their sides had fallen in, their heads weredrooping, their eyes dim. While moving along, they dropped their headsto the ground time after time, to seize moss, or nip in passing redleaves withering here and there on the low oak bushes. It must be toothat fever was tormenting Basia, for at all crossings she drankeagerly.
Nevertheless, when she came out on an open plain between two for
ests,she urged the wearied horses forward at a gallop, and went at that paceto the next forest.
After she had passed that forest she came to a second plain, stillwider and more broken; behind hills at a distance of a mile or moresmoke was rising, as straight as a pine-tree, toward the sky. That wasthe first inhabited place that Basia had met; for that country,excepting the river-bank itself, was a desert, or rather had beenturned into a desert, not only in consequence of Tartar attacks, but byreason of continuous Polish-Cossack wars. After the last campaign ofPan Charnetski, to whom Busha fell a victim, the small towns came to bewretched settlements, the villages were overgrown with young forests;but after Charnetski, there were so many expeditions, so many battles,so many slaughters, down to the most recent times, in which the greatSobieski had wrested those regions from the enemy. Life had begun toincrease; but that one tract through which Basia was fleeing wasspecially empty,--only robbers had taken refuge there, but even theyhad been well-nigh exterminated by the commands at Rashkoff, Yampol,and Hreptyoff.
Basia's first thought at sight of this smoke was to ride toward it,find a house or even a hut, or if nothing more, a simple fire, warmherself and gain strength. But soon it occurred to her that in thoseregions it was safer to meet a pack of wolves than to meet men; menthere were more merciless and savage than wild beasts. Nay, it behoovedher to urge forward her horses, and pass that forest haunt of men withall speed, for only death could await her in that place.
At the very edge of the opposite forest Basia saw a small stack of hay;so, paying no attention to anything, she stopped at it to feed herhorses. They ate greedily, thrusting their heads at once to their earsin the hay, and drawing out great bunches of it. Unfortunately theirbits hindered them greatly; but Basia could not unbridle them,reasoning correctly in this way:--
"Where smoke is there must be a house; as there is a stack here, theymust have horses there on which they could follow me,--therefore I mustbe ready."
She spent, however, about an hour at the stack, so that the horses atefairly well; and she herself ate some seeds. She then moved on, andwhen she had travelled a number of furlongs, all at once she saw beforeher two persons carrying bundles of twigs on their backs.
One was a man not old, but not in his first youth, with a face pittedwith small-pox, and with crooked eyes, ugly, repulsive, with a cruel,ferocious expression of face; the other, a stripling, was idiotic. Thiswas to be seen at the first glance, by his stupid smile and wanderinglook.
Both threw down their bundles of twigs at sight of the armed horseman,and seemed to be greatly alarmed. But the meeting was so sudden, andthey were so near, that they could not flee.
"Glory be to God!" said Basia.
"For the ages of ages."
"What is the name of this farm?"
"What should its name be? There is the cabin."
"Is it far to Mohiloff?"
"We know not."
Here the man began to scrutinize Basia's face carefully. Since she woreman's apparel he took her for a youth; insolence and cruelty came atonce to his face instead of the recent timidity.
"But why are you so young, Pan Knight?"
"What is that to you?"
"And are you travelling alone?" asked the peasant, advancing a step.
"Troops are following me."
He halted, looked over the immense plain, and answered,--
"Not true. There is no one."
He advanced two steps; his crooked eyes gave out a sullen gleam, andarranging his mouth he began to imitate the call of a quail, evidentlywishing to summon some one in that way.
All this seemed to Basia very hostile, and she aimed a pistol at hisbreast without hesitation,--
"Silence, or thou'lt die!"
The man stopped, and, what is more, threw himself flat on the ground.The idiot did the same, but began to howl like a wolf from terror;perhaps he had lost his mind on a time from the same feeling, for nowhis howling recalled the most ghastly terror.
Basia urged forward her horses, and shot on like an arrow. Fortunatelythere was no undergrowth in the forest, and trees were far apart. Soona new plain appeared, narrow, but very long. The horses had gainedfresh strength from eating at the stack, and rushed like the wind.
"They will run home, mount their horses, and pursue me," thought Basia.
Her only solace was that the horses travelled well, and that the placewhere she met the men was rather far from the house.
"Before they can reach the house and bring out the horses, I, riding inthis way, shall be five miles or more ahead."
That was the case; but when some hours had passed, and Basia, convincedthat she was not followed, slackened speed, great fear, greatdepression, seized her heart, and tears came perforce to her eyes.
This meeting showed her what people in those regions were, and whatmight be looked for from them. It is true that this knowledge was notunexpected. From her own experience, and from the narratives atHreptyoff, she knew that the former peaceful settlers had gone fromthose wilds, or that war had devoured them; those who remained wereliving in continual alarm, amid terrible civil disturbance and Tartarattacks, in conditions in which one man is a wolf toward another; theywere living without churches or faith, without other principles thanthose of bloodshed and burning, without knowing any right but that ofthe strong hand; they had lost all human feelings, and grown wild, likethe beasts of the forest. Basia knew this well; still, a human being,astray in the wilderness, harassed by cold and hunger, turnsinvoluntarily for aid first of all to kindred beings. So did Basia whenshe saw that smoke indicating a habitation of people; followinginvoluntarily the first impulse of her heart, she wished to rush to it,greet the inhabitants with God's name, and rest her wearied head undertheir roof. But cruel reality bared its teeth at her quickly, like afierce dog. Hence her heart was filled with bitterness; tears of sorrowand disappointment came to her eyes.
"Help from no one but God," thought she; "may I meet no person again."Then she fell to thinking why that man had begun to imitate a quail."There must be others there surely, and he wanted to call them." Itcame to her head that there were robbers in that tract, who, driven outof the ravines near the river, had betaken themselves to the wildsfarther off in the country, where the nearness of broad steppes gavethem more safety and easier escape in case of need.
"But what will happen," inquired Basia, "if I meet a number of men, ormore than a dozen? The musket,--that is one; two pistols,--two; asabre,--let us suppose two more; but if the number is greater thanthis, I shall die a dreadful death."
And as in the previous night with its alarms she had wished day to comeas quickly as possible, so now she looked with yearning for darkness tohide her more easily from evil eyes.
Twice more, during persistent riding, did it seem to her that she waspassing near people. Once she saw on the edge of a high plain a numberof cabins. Maybe robbers by vocation were not living in them, but shepreferred to pass at a gallop, knowing that even villagers are not muchbetter than robbers; another time she heard the sound of axes cuttingwood.
The wished-for night covered the earth at last. Basia was so weariedthat when she came to a naked steppe, free from forest, she said toherself,--
"Here I shall not be crushed against a tree; I will sleep right away,even if I freeze."
When she was closing her eyes it seemed to her that far off in thedistance, in the white snow, she saw a number of black points whichwere moving in various directions. For a while longer she overcame hersleep. "Those are surely wolves," muttered she, quietly.
Before she had gone many yards, those points disappeared; then she fellasleep so soundly that she woke only when Azya's horse, on which shewas sitting, neighed under her.
She looked around; she was on the edge of a forest, and woke in time,for if she had not waked she might have been crushed against a tree.
Suddenly she saw that the other horse was not near her.
"What has happened?" cried she, in great alarm.
But a
very simple thing had happened. Basia had tied, it is true, thereins of her horse's bridle to the pommel of the saddle on which shewas sitting; but her stiffened hands served her badly, and she was notable to knot the straps firmly; afterward the reins fell off, and thewearied horse stopped to seek food under the snow or lie down.
Fortunately Basia had her pistol at her girdle, and not in theholsters; the powder-horn and the bag with the rest of the seeds werealso with her. Finally the misfortune was not too appalling; for Azya'shorse, though he yielded to hers in speed, surpassed him undoubtedly inendurance of cold and labor. Still, Basia was grieved for her favoritehorse, and at the first moment determined to search for him.
She was astonished, however, when she looked around the steppe and sawnothing of the beast, though the night was unusually clear.
"He has stopped behind," thought she,--"surely not gone ahead; but hemust have lain down in some hollow, and that is why I cannot see him."
Azya's horse neighed a second time, shaking himself somewhat andputting back his ears; but from the steppe he was answered by silence.
"I will go and find him," said Basia.
And she turned, when a sudden alarm seized her, and a voice preciselyas if human called,--
"Basia, do not go back!"
That moment the silence was broken by other and ill-omened voices near,and coming, as it were, from under the earth, howling, coughing,whining, groaning, and finally a ghastly squeal, short, interrupted.This was all the more terrible since there was nothing to be seen onthe steppe. Cold sweat covered Basia from head to foot; and from herblue lips was wrested the cry,--
"What is that? What has happened?"
She divined at once, it is true, that wolves had killed her horse; butshe could not understand why she did not see him, since, judging by thesounds, he was not more than five hundred yards behind.
There was no time to fly to the rescue, for the horse must be torn topieces already; besides, she needed to think of her own life. Basiafired the pistol to frighten the wolves, and moved forward. While goingshe pondered over what had happened, and after a while it shot throughher head that perhaps it was not wolves that had taken her horse, sincethose voices seemed to come from under the ground. At this thought acold shiver went along her back; but dwelling on the matter morecarefully, she remembered that in her sleep it had seemed to her thatshe was going down and then going up again.
"It must be so," said she; "I must have crossed in my sleep someravine, not very steep. There my horse remained; and there the wolvesfound him."
The rest of the night passed without accident. Having eaten hay themorning before, the horse went with great endurance, so that Basiaherself was amazed at his strength. That was a Tartar horse,--a "wolfhunter" of great stock, and of endurance almost without limit. Duringthe short halts which Basia made, he ate everything withoutdistinction,--moss, leaves; he gnawed even the bark of trees, and wenton and on. Basia urged him to a gallop on the plains. Then he began togroan somewhat, and to breathe loudly when reined in; he panted,trembled, and dropped his head low from weariness, but did not fall.Her horse, even had he not perished under the teeth of the wolves,could not have endured such a journey. Next morning Basia, after herprayers, began to calculate the time.
"I broke away from Azya on Tuesday in the afternoon," said she toherself, "I galloped till night; then one night passed on the road;after that a whole day; then again a whole night, and now the third dayhas begun. A pursuit, even had there been one, must have returnedalready, and Hreptyoff ought to be near, for I have not spared thehorses."
After a while she added, "It is time; it is time! God pity me!"
At moments a desire seized her to approach the Dniester, for at thebank it would be easier to learn where she was; but when she rememberedthat fifty of Azya's men had remained with Pan Gorzenski in Mohiloff,she was afraid. It occurred to her that because she had made such acircuit she might not have passed Mohiloff yet. On the road, in so faras sleep had not closed her eyes, she tried, it is true, to notecarefully whether she did not come on a very wide ravine, like that inwhich Mohiloff was situated; but she did not see such a place. However,the ravine in the interior might be narrow and altogether differentfrom what it was at Mohiloff; might have come to an end or contractedat some furlongs beyond the town; in a word, Basia had not the leastidea of where Mohiloff was.
Only she implored God without ceasing that it might be near, for shefelt that she could not endure toil, hunger, sleeplessness, and coldmuch longer. During three days she had lived on seeds alone, and thoughshe had spared them most carefully, still she had eaten the last kernelthat morning, and there was nothing in the bag.
Now she could only nourish and warm herself with the hope thatHreptyoff was near. In addition to hope, fever was warming her. Basiafelt perfectly that she had a fever; for though the air was growingcolder, and it was even freezing, her hands and feet were as hot thenas they had been cold at the beginning of the journey; thirst tootormented her greatly.
"If only I do not lose my presence of mind," said she to herself; "if Ireach Hreptyoff, even with my last breath, see Michael, and then letthe will of God be done."
Again she had to pass numerous streams or rivers, but these were eithershallow or frozen; on some water was flowing, and there was iceunderneath, firm and strong. But she dreaded these crossings most ofall because the horse, though courageous, feared them evidently. Goinginto the water or onto the ice he snorted, put forward his ears,sometimes resisted, but when urged went warily, putting foot beforefoot slowly, and sniffing with distended nostrils. It was well on inthe afternoon when Basia, riding through a thick pine-wood, haltedbefore some river larger than others, and above all much wider.According to her supposition this might be the Ladava or the Kalusik.At sight of this her heart beat with gladness. In every case Hreptyoffmust be near; had she passed it even, she might consider herself saved,for the country there was more inhabited and the people less to befeared. The river, as far as her eye could reach, had steep banks; onlyin one place was there a depression, and the water, dammed by ice, hadgone over the bank as if poured into a flat and wide vessel. The bankswere frozen thoroughly; in the middle a broad streak of water wasflowing, but Basia hoped to find the usual ice under it.
The horse went in, resisting somewhat, as at every crossing, with headinclined, and smelling the snow before him. When she came to runningwater Basia knelt on the saddle, according to her custom, and held thesaddle-bow with both hands. The water plashed under his hoofs. The icewas really firm; his hoof struck it as stone. But evidently the shoeshad grown blunt on the long road, which was rocky in places, for thehorse began to slip; his feet went apart, as if flying from under him.All at once he fell forward, and his nostrils sank in the water; thenhe rose, fell on his rump, rose again, but being terrified, began tostruggle and strike desperately with his feet. Basia grasped thebridle, and with that a dull crack was heard; both hind legs of thehorse sank through the ice as far as the haunches.
"Jesus, Jesus!" cried Basia.
The beast, with fore legs still on firm ice, made desperate efforts;but evidently the pieces on which he was resting began to move fromunder his feet, for he fell deeper, and began to groan hoarsely.
Basia had still time sufficient and presence of mind to seize the maneof the horse and reach the unbroken ice in front of him. She fell andwas wet in the water; but rising and feeling firm ground under foot,she knew that she was saved. She wished to save the horse, and bendingforward caught the bridle; and going toward the bank she pulled it withall her might.
But the horse sank deeper, could not free even his fore legs to grapplethe ice, which was still unmoved. The reins were pulled harder everyinstant; but he sank more and more. He began to groan with a voicealmost human, baring his teeth the while; his eyes looked at Basia withindescribable sadness, as if wishing to say to her: "There is no rescuefor me; drop the reins ere I drag thee in!"
There was, in truth, no rescue for him, and Basia had to drop th
ereins.
When the horse disappeared beneath the ice she went to the bank, satdown under a bush without leaves, and sobbed like a child.
Her energy was thoroughly broken for the moment. And besides that, thebitterness and pain which, after meeting with people, had filled herheart, overflowed it now with still greater force. Everything wasagainst her,--uncertain roads, darkness, the elements, men, beasts; thehand of God alone had seemed to watch over her. In that kind, fatherlycare she had put all her childlike trust; but now even that hand hadfailed her. This was a feeling to which Basia had not given such clearexpression; but if she had not, she felt it all the more strongly inher heart.
What remained to her? Complaint and tears! And still she had shown allthe valor, all the courage, all the endurance which such a poor, weakcreature could show. Now, see, her horse is drowned,--the last hope ofrescue, the last plank of salvation, the only thing living that waswith her! Without that horse she felt powerless against the unknownexpanse which separated her from Hreptyoff, against the pine-woods,ravines, and steppes; not only defenceless against the pursuit of menand beasts, but she felt far more lonely and deserted than before. Shewept till tears failed her. Then came exhaustion, weariness, and afeeling of helplessness so great that it was almost equal to rest.Sighing deeply once and a second time, she said to herself,--
"Against the will of God I am powerless. I will die where I am."
And she closed her eyes, aforetime so bright and joyous, but now hollowand sunken.
In its own way, though her body was becoming more helpless everymoment, thought was still throbbing in her head like a frightened bird,and her heart was throbbing also. If no one in the world loved her, shewould have less regret to die; but all loved her so much.
And she pictured to herself what would happen when Azya's treason andhis flight would become known: how they would search for her; how theywould find her at last,--blue, frozen, sleeping the eternal sleep undera bush at the river. And all at once she called out,--
"Oh, but poor Michael will be in despair! Ei, ei!"
Then she implored him, saying that it was not her fault.
"Michael," said she, putting her arms around his neck, mentally, "I didall in my power; but, my dear, it was difficult. The Lord God did notwill it."
And that moment such a heartfelt love for Michael possessed her, such awish even to die near that dear head, that, summoning every force shehad, she rose from the bank and walked on.
At first it was immensely difficult. Her feet had become unaccustomedto walking during the long ride; she felt as if she were going onstilts. Happily she was not cold; she was even warm enough, for thefever had not left her for a moment.
Sinking in the forest, she went forward persistently, remembering tokeep the sun on her left hand. It had gone, in fact, to the Moldavianside; for it was the second half of the day,--perhaps four o'clock.Basia cared less now for approaching the Dniester, for it seemed to heralways that she was beyond Mohiloff.
"If only I were sure of that; if I knew it!" repeated she, raisingher blue, and at the same time inflamed, face to the sky. "If somebeast or some tree would speak and say, 'It is a mile to Hreptyoff, twomiles,'--I might go there perhaps."
But the trees were silent; nay more, they seemed to her unfriendly, andobstructed the road with their roots. Basia stumbled frequently againstthe knots and curls of those roots covered with snow. After a time shewas burdened unendurably; she threw the warm mantle from her shouldersand remained in her single coat. Relieving herself in this way, shewalked and walked still more hurriedly,--now stumbling, now falling attimes in deeper snow. Her fur-lined morocco boots without soles,excellent for riding in a sleigh or on horseback, did not protect herfeet well against clumps or stones; besides, soaked through repeatedlyat crossings, and kept damp by the warmth of her feet now inflamed fromfever, these boots were torn easily in the forest.
"I will go barefoot to Hreptyoff or to death!" thought Basia.
And a sad smile lighted her face, for she found comfort in this, thatshe went so enduringly; and that if she should be frozen on the road,Michael would have nothing to cast at her memory.
Therefore she talked now continually with her husband, and said once,--
"Ai, Michael dear! another would not have done so much; for example,Eva."
Of Eva she had thought more than once in that time of flight; more thanonce had she prayed for Eva. It was clear to her now, seeing that Azyadid not love the girl, that her fate, and the fate of all the otherprisoners left in Rashkoff, would be dreadful.
"It is worse for them than for me," repeated she, from moment tomoment, and that thought gave fresh strength to her.
But when one, two, and three hours had passed, this strength decreasedat every step. Gradually the sun sank behind the Dniester, and floodingthe sky with a ruddy twilight, was quenched; the snow took on a violetreflection. Then that gold and purple abyss of twilight began to growdark, and became narrower every moment, from a sea covering half theheavens it was changed to a lake, from a lake to a river, from a riverto a stream, and finally gleaming as a thread of light stretched on thewest, yielded to darkness.
Night came.
An hour passed. The pine-wood became black and mysterious; but, unmovedby any breath, it was as silent as if it had collected itself, and weremeditating what to do with that poor, wandering creature. But there wasnothing good in that torpor and silence; nay, there was insensibilityand callousness.
Basia went on continually, catching the air more quickly with herparched lips; she fell, too, more frequently, because of darkness andher lack of strength.
She had her head turned upward; but not to look for the directing GreatBear, for she had lost altogether the sense of position. She went so asto go; she went because very clear and sweet visions before death hadbegun to fly over her.
For example, the four sides of the wood begin to run together quickly,to join and form a room,--the room at Hreptyoff. Basia is in it; shesees everything clearly. In the chimney a great fire is burning, and onthe benches officers are sitting as usual: Pan Zagloba is chaffing PanSnitko; Pan Motovidlo is sitting in silence looking into the flames,and when something hisses in the fire he says, in his drawling voice,"Oh, soul in purgatory, what needst thou?" Pan Mushalski and PanHromyka are playing dice with Michael. Basia comes up to them and says:"Michael, I will sit on the bench and nestle up to you a little, for Iam not myself." Michael puts his arm around her. "What is the matter,kitten? But maybe--" And he inclines to her ear and whispers something.But she answers, "Ai, how I am not myself!" What a bright and peacefulroom that is, and how beloved is that Michael! But somehow Basia is notherself, so that she is alarmed.
Basia is not herself to such a degree that the fever has left hersuddenly, for the weakness before death has overcome it. The visionsdisappear; presence of mind returns, and with it memory.
"I am fleeing before Azya," said Basia to herself; "I am in the forestat night. I cannot go to Hreptyoff. I am dying."
After the fever, cold seizes her quickly, and goes through her body tothe bones. The legs bend under her, and she kneels at last on the snowbefore a tree.
Not the least cloud darkens her mind now. She is terribly sorry to loselife, but she knows perfectly that she is dying; and wishing to commendher soul to God, she begins to say, in a broken voice,--
"In the name of the Father and the Son--"
Suddenly certain strange, sharp, shrill, squeaking voices interruptfurther prayer; they are disagreeable and piercing in the stillness ofthe night.
Basia opens her mouth. The question, "What is that?" is dying on herlips. For a moment she places her trembling fingers to her face, as ifnot wishing to lend belief, and from her mouth a sudden cry iswrested,--
"O Jesus, O Jesus! Those are the well-sweeps; that is Hreptyoff! OJesus!"
Then that being who was dying a little before springs up, and panting,trembling, with eyes full of tears, and with swelling bosom runsthrough the forest, falls, rises a
gain, repeating,--
"They are watering the horses! That is Hreptyoff! Those are ourwell-sweeps! Even to the gate, even to the gate! O Jesus!Hreptyoff--Hreptyoff!"
But here the forest grows thin, the snow-fields open, and with them theslope, from which a number of glittering eyes are looking on therunning Basia.
But those were not wolves' eyes,--ah, those were Hreptyoff windowslooking with sweet, bright, and saving light! That is the "fortalice"there on the eminence, just that eastern side turned to the forest!
There was still a distance to go, but Basia did not know when shepassed it. The soldiers standing at the gate on the village side didnot know her in the darkness; but they admitted her, thinking her a boysent on some message, and returning to the commandant. She rushed inwith her last breath, ran across the square near the wells where thedragoons, returning just before from a reconnoissance, had wateredtheir horses for the night, and stood at the door of the main building.The little knight and Zagloba were sitting just then astride a benchbefore the fire, and drinking krupnik.[27] They were talking of Basia,thinking that she was down there somewhere, managing in Rashkoff. Bothwere sad, for it was terribly dreary without her, and every day theywere discussing about her return.
"God ward off sudden thaws and rains. Should they come. He alone knowswhen she would return," said Zagloba, gloomily.
"The winter will hold out yet," said the little knight; "and in eightor ten days I shall be looking toward Mohiloff for her every hour."
"I wish she had not gone. There is nothing for me here without her inHreptyoff."
"But why did you advise the journey?"
"Don't invent, Michael! That took place with your head."
"If only she comes back in health."
Here the little knight sighed, and added,--
"In health, and as soon as possible."
With that the door squeaked, and a small, pitiful, torn creature,covered with snow, began to pipe plaintively at the threshold:--
"Michael, Michael!"
The little knight sprang up, but he was so astonished at the firstmoment that he stopped where he stood, as if turned to stone; he openedhis arms, began to blink, and stood still.
"Michael!--Azya betrayed--he wanted to carry me away; but I fled,and--save--rescue!"
When she had said this, she tottered and fell as if dead, on the floor;Pan Michael sprang forward, raised her in his arms as if she had been afeather, and cried shrilly,--
"Merciful Christ!"
But her poor head hung without life on his shoulder. Thinking that heheld only a corpse in his arms, he began to cry with a ghastly voice,--
"Basia is dead!--dead! Rescue!"