CHAPTER XLIX.
Pan Adam's passage of the Dniester, and his march with three hundredsabres against the power of the Sultan, which numbered hundreds ofthousands of warriors, were deeds which a man unacquainted with warmight consider pure madness; but they were only bold, daring deeds ofwar, having chances of success.
To begin with, raiders of those days went frequently against chambuls ahundred times superior in numbers; they stood before the eyes of theenemy, and then vanished, cutting down pursuers savagely. Just as awolf entices dogs after him at times, to turn at the right moment andkill the dog pushing forward most daringly, so did they. In the twinkleof an eye the beast became the hunter, started, hid, waited, but thoughpursued, hunted too, attacked unexpectedly, and bit to death. That wasthe so-called "method with Tartars," in which each side vied with theother in stratagems, tricks, and ambushes. The most famous man in thismethod was Pan Michael, next to him Pan Rushchyts, then Pan Pivo, thenPan Motovidlo; but Novoveski, practising from boyhood in the steppes,belonged to those who were mentioned among the most famous, hence itwas very likely that when he stood before the horde he would not lethimself be taken.
The expedition had chances of success too, for the reason that beyondthe Dniester there were wild regions in which it was easy to hide. Onlyhere and there, along the rivers, did settlements show themselves, andin general the country was little inhabited; nearer the Dniester it wasrocky and hilly; farther on there were steppes, or the land was coveredwith forests, in which numerous herds of beasts wandered, frombuffaloes, run wild, to deer and wild boars. Since the Sultan wishedbefore the expedition "to feel his power and calculate his forces," thehordes dwelling on the lower Dniester, those of Belgrod, and stillfarther those of Dobrudja, marched at command of the Padishah to thesouth of the Balkans, and after them followed the Karalash of Moldavia,so that the country had become still more deserted, and it was possibleto travel whole weeks without being seen by any person.
Pan Adam knew Tartar customs too well not to know that when thechambuls had once passed the boundary of the Commonwealth they wouldmove more warily, keeping diligent watch on all sides; but there intheir own country they would go in broad columns without anyprecaution. And they did so, in fact; there seemed to the Tartars agreater chance to meet death than to meet in the heart of Bessarabia,on the very Tartar boundary, the troops of that Commonwealth which hadnot men enough to defend its own borders.
Pan Adam was confident that his expedition would astonish the enemyfirst of all, and hence do more good than the hetman had hoped;secondly, that it might be destructive to Azya and his men. It was easyfor the young lieutenant to divine that they, since they knew theCommonwealth thoroughly, would march in the vanguard, and he placed hismain hope in that certainty. To fall unexpectedly on Azya and seizehim, to rescue perhaps his sister and Zosia, to snatch them fromcaptivity, accomplish his vengeance, and then perish in war, was allthat the distracted soul of Novoveski wished for.
Under the influence of these thoughts and hopes. Pan Adam freed himselffrom torpor, and revived. His march along unknown ways, arduous labor,the sweeping wind of the steppes, and the dangers of the boldundertaking increased his health, and brought back his former strength.The warrior began to overcome in him the man of misfortune. Beforethat, there had been no place in him for anything except memories andsuffering; now he had to think whole days of how he was to deceive andattack.
After they had passed the Dniester the Poles went on a diagonal, anddown toward the Pruth. In the day they hid frequently in forests andreeds; in the night they made secret and hurried marches. So far thecountry was not much inhabited, and, occupied mainly by nomads, wasempty for the greater part. Very rarely did they come upon fields ofmaize, and near them houses.
Marching secretly, they strove to avoid larger settlements, but oftenthey stopped at smaller ones composed of one, two, three, or even anumber of cottages; these they entered boldly, knowing that none of theinhabitants would think of fleeing before them to Budjyak, andforewarning the Tartars. Lusnia, however, took care that this shouldnot happen; but soon he omitted the precaution, for he convincedhimself that those few settlements, though subject, as it were, to theSultan, were looking for his troops with dread; and secondly, that theyhad no idea what kind of people had come to them, and took the wholedetachment for Karalash parties, who were marching after others atcommand of the Sultan.
The inhabitants furnished without opposition corn, bread, and driedbuffalo-meat. Every cottager had his flock of sheep, his buffaloes andhorses, secreted near the rivers, From time to time appeared also verylarge herds of buffaloes, half wild, and followed by a number ofherdsmen. These herdsmen lived in tents on the steppe, and remained inone place only while they found grass in abundance. Frequently theywere old Tartars. Pan Adam surrounded them with as much care as if theywere a chambul; he did not spare them, lest they might send down towardBudjyak a report of his march. Tartars, especially after he hadinquired of them concerning the roads, or rather the roadless country,he slew without mercy, so that not a foot escaped. He took then fromthe herds as many cattle as he needed, and moved on.
The detachment went southward; they met now more frequently herdsguarded by Tartars almost exclusively, and in rather large parties.During a march of two weeks Pan Adam surrounded and cut down threebands of shepherds, numbering some tens of men. The dragoons alwaystook the sheepskin coats of these men, and cleaning them over fires,put them on, so as to resemble wild herdsmen and shepherds. In anotherweek they were all dressed like Tartars, and looked exactly like achambul. There remained to them only the uniform weapons of regularcavalry; but they kept their jackets in the saddle-straps, so as to putthem on when returning. They might be recognized near at hand by theiryellow Mazovian mustaches and blue eyes; but from a distance a man ofthe greatest experience might be deceived at sight of them, all themore since they drove before them the cattle which they needed as food.
Approaching the Pruth, they marched along its left bank. Since thetrail of Kuchman was in a region too much stripped, it was easy toforesee that the legions of the Sultan and the horde in the vanguardwould march through Falezi, Hush, Kotimore, and only then by theWallachian trail, and either turn toward the Dniester, or go straightas the east of a sickle through all Bessarabia, to come out on theboundary of the Commonwealth near Ushytsa. Pan Adam was so certain ofthis that, caring nothing for time, he went more and more slowly, andwith increasing care, so as not to come too suddenly on chambuls.Arriving at last at the river forks formed by the Sarata and theTekich, he stopped there for a long time, first, to give rest to hishorses and men, and second, to wait in a well-sheltered place for thevanguard of the horde.
The place was well sheltered and carefully chosen, for all the innerand outer banks of the two rivers were covered partly with the commoncornel-bush, and partly with dog-wood. This thicket extended as far asthe eye could reach, covering the ground in places with densebrushwood, in places forming groups of bushes, between which were emptyspaces, commodious for camping. At that season the trees and bushes hadcast their blossoms, but in the early spring there must have been a seaof white and yellow flowers. The place was uninhabited, but swarmingwith beasts, such as deer and rabbits, and with birds. Here and there,at the edge of a spring, they found also bear tracks. One man at thearrival of the detachment killed a couple of sheep. In view of this,Lusnia promised himself a sheep hunt; but Pan Adam, wishing to lieconcealed, did not permit the use of muskets,--the soldiers went out toplunder with spears and axes.
Later on they found near the water traces of fires, but old ones,probably of the past year. It was evident that nomads looked in therefrom time to time with their herds, or perhaps Tartars came to cutcornel-wood for slung staffs. But the most careful search did notdiscover a living soul. Pan Adam decided not to go farther, but toremain there till the coming of the Turkish troops.
They laid out a square, built huts, and waited. At the edges of thewood sentries were posted; some o
f these looked day and night towardBudjyak, others toward the Pruth in the direction of Falezi. Pan Adamknew that he would divine the approach of the Sultan's armies bycertain signs; besides, he sent out small detachments, led by himselfmost frequently. The weather favored excellently the halt in that dryregion. The days were warm, but it was easy to avoid heat in the shadeof the thicket; the nights were clear, calm, moonlight, and then thegroves were quivering from the singing of nightingales. During suchnights Pan Adam suffered most, for he could not sleep; he was thinkingof his former happiness, and pondering on the present days of disaster.He lived only in the thought that when his heart was sated withvengeance he would be happier and calmer. Meanwhile the time wasapproaching in which he was to accomplish that vengeance or perish.
Week followed week spent in finding food in wild places, and inwatching. During that time they studied all the trails, ravines,meadows, rivers, and streams, gathered in again a number of herds, cutdown some small bands of nomads, and watched continually in thatthicket, like a wild beast waiting for prey. At last the expectedmoment came.
A certain morning they saw flocks of birds covering the earth and thesky. Bustards, ptarmigans, blue-legged quails, hurried through thegrass to the thicket; through the sky flew ravens, crows, and evenwater-birds, evidently frightened on the banks of the Danube or theswamps of the Dobrudja. At sight of this the dragoons looked at oneanother; and the phrase, "They are coming! they are coming!" flew frommouth to mouth. Faces grew animated at once, mustaches began to quiver,eyes to gleam, but in that animation there was not the slightest alarm.Those were all men for whom life had passed in "methods;" they onlyfelt what a hunting dog feels when he sniffs game. Fires were quenchedin a moment, so that smoke might not betray the presence of people inthe thicket; the horses were saddled; and the whole detachment stoodready for action.
It was necessary so to measure time as to fall on the enemy during ahalt. Pan Adam understood well that the Sultan's troops would not marchin dense masses, especially in their own country, where danger wasaltogether unlikely. He knew, too, that it was the custom of vanguardsto march five or ten miles before the main army. He hoped, with goodreason, that the Lithuanian Tartars would be first in the vanguard.
For a certain time he hesitated whether to advance to meet them bysecret roads, well known to him, or to wait in the woods for theircoming. He chose the latter, because it was easier to attack from thewoods unexpectedly. Another day passed, then a night, during which notonly birds came in swarms, but beasts came in droves to the woods. Nextmorning the enemy was in sight.
South of the wood stretched a broad though hilly meadow, which was lostin the distant horizon. On that meadow appeared the enemy, andapproached the wood rather quickly. The dragoons looked from the treesat that dark mass, which vanished at times, when hidden by hills, andthen appeared again in all its extent.
Lusnia, who had uncommonly sharp eyesight, looked some time with effortat those crowds approaching; then he went to Novoveski, and said,--
"Pan Commandant, there are not many men; they are only driving herdsout to pasture."
Pan Adam convinced himself soon that Lusnia was right, and his faceshone with gladness.
"That means that their halting-place is five or six miles from thisgrove," said he.
"It does," answered Lusnia. "They march in the night, evidently to gainshelter from heat, and rest in the day; they are sending the horses nowto pasture till evening."
"Is there a large guard with the horses?"
Lusnia pushed out again to the edge of the wood, and did not return fora longer time. At last he came back and said,--
"There are about fifteen hundred horses and twenty-five men with them.They are in their own country; they fear nothing, and do not put outstrong watches."
"Could you recognize the men?"
"They are far away yet, but they are Lithuanian Tartars. They are inour hands already."
"They are," said Pan Adam.
In fact, he was convinced that not a living foot of those men wouldescape. For such a leader as he, and such soldiers as he led, that wasa very light task.
Meanwhile the herdsmen had driven the beasts nearer and nearer to theforest. Lusnia thrust himself out once again to the border, andreturned a second time. His face was shining with cruelty and gladness.
"Lithuanian Tartars," whispered he.
Hearing this, Pan Adam made a noise like a falcon, and straightway adivision of dragoons pushed into the depth of the wood. There theyseparated into two parties, one of which disappeared in a defile, so asto come out behind the herd and the Tartars; the other formed ahalf-circle, and waited.
All this was done so quietly that the most trained ear could not havecaught a sound; neither sabre nor spur rattled; no horse neighed; thethick grass on the ground dulled the tramp of hoofs; besides, even thehorses seemed to understand that the success of the attack depended onsilence, for they were performing such service not for the first time.Nothing was heard from the defile and the brushwood but the call of thefalcon, lower every little while and less frequent.
The herd of Tartar horses stopped before the wood, and scattered ingreater or smaller groups on the meadow. Pan Adam himself was then nearthe edge, and followed all the movements of the herdsmen. The day wasclear, and the time before noon, but the sun was already high, and castheat on the earth. The horses rolled; later on, they approached thewood. The herdsmen rode to the edge of the grove, slipped down fromtheir horses, and let them out on lariats; then seeking the shade andcool places, they entered the thicket, and lay down under the largestbushes to rest.
Soon a fire burst up in a flame; when the dry sticks had turned intocoals and were coated with ashes, the herdsmen put half a colt on thecoals, and sat at a distance themselves to avoid the heat. Somestretched on the grass; others talked, sitting in groups, Turkishfashion; one began to play on a horn. In the wood perfect silencereigned; the falcon called only at times.
The odor of singed flesh announced at last that the roast was ready.Two men drew it out of the ashes, and dragged it to a shady tree; therethey sat in a circle cutting the meat with their knives, and eatingwith beastly greed. From the half-raw strips came blood, which settledon their fingers, and flowed down their beards.
When they had finished eating, and had drunk sour mare's milk out ofskins, they felt satisfied. They talked awhile yet; then their headsand limbs became heavy.
Afternoon came. The heat flew down from heaven more and more. Theforest was varied with quivering streaks of light made by the rays ofthe sun penetrating dense places. Everything was silent; even thefalcons ceased to call.
A number of Tartars stood up and went to look at the horses; othersstretched themselves like corpses on a battlefield, and soon sleepoverpowered them. But their sleep after meat and drink was rather heavyand uneasy, for at times one groaned deeply, another opened his lidsfor a moment, and repeated, "Allah, Bismillah!"
All at once on the edge of the wood was heard some low but terriblesound, like the short rattle of a stifled man who had no time to cry.Whether the ears of the herdsmen were so keen, or some animal instincthad warned them of danger, or finally, whether Death had blown withcold breath on them, it is enough that they sprang up from sleep in onemoment.
"What is that? Where are the men at the horses?" they began to inquireof one another. Then from a thicket some voice said in Polish,--
"They will not return."
That moment a hundred and fifty men rushed in a circle at the herdsmen,who were frightened so terribly that the cry died in their breasts. Anodd one barely succeeded in grasping his dagger. The circle ofattackers covered and hid them completely. The bush quivered from thepressure of human bodies, which struggled in a disorderly group. Thewhistle of blades, panting, and at times groaning or wheezing wereheard, but that lasted one twinkle of an eye; and all was silent.
"How many are alive?" asked a voice among the attackers.
"Five, Pan Commandant."
"Examine the bodie
s; lest any escape, give each man a knife in thethroat, and bring the prisoners to the fire."
The command was obeyed in one moment. The corpses were pinned to theturf with their own knives; the prisoners, after their feet had beenbound to sticks, were brought around the fire, which Lusnia had rakedso that coals, hidden under ashes, would be on the top.
The prisoners looked at this preparation and at Lusnia with wild eyes.Among them were three Tartars of Hreptyoff who knew the sergeantperfectly. He knew them too, and said,--
"Well, comrades, you must sing now; if not, you will go to the otherworld on roasted soles. For old acquaintance' sake I will not sparefire on you."
When he had said this he threw dry limbs on the fire, which burst outat once in a tall blaze.
Pan Adam came now, and began the examination. From confessions of theprisoners it appeared that what the young lieutenant had divinedearlier was true. The Lithuanian Tartars and Cheremis were marching inthe vanguard before the horde, and before all the troops of the Sultan.They were led by Azya, son of Tugai Bey, to whom was given command overall the parties. They, as well as the whole army, marched at nightbecause of the heat; in the day they sent their herds out to pasture.They threw out no pickets, for no one supposed that troops could attackthem even near the Dniester, much less at the Pruth, right at thedwellings of the horde; they marched comfortably, therefore, with theirherds and with camels, which carried the tents of the officers. Thetent of Murza Azya was easily known, for it had a bunchuk fixed on itssummit, and the banners of the companies were fastened near it in timeof halt. The camp was four or five miles distant; there were about twothousand men in it, but some of them had remained with the Belgrodhorde, which was marching about five miles behind.
Pan Adam inquired further touching the road which would lead to thecamp best, then how the tents were arranged, and last, of that whichconcerned him most deeply.
"Are there women in the tent?"
The Tartars trembled for their lives. Those of them who had served inHreptyoff knew perfectly that Pan Adam was the brother of one of thosewomen, and was betrothed to the other; they understood, therefore, whatrage would seize him when he knew the whole truth.
That rage might fall first on them; they hesitated, therefore, butLusnia said at once,--
"Pan Commandant, we'll warm their soles for the dog brothers; then theywill speak."
"Thrust their feet in the fire!" said Pan Adam.
"Have mercy!" cried Eliashevich, an old Tartar from Hreptyoff. "I willtell all that my eyes have seen."
Lusnia looked at the commandant to learn if he was to carry out thethreat notwithstanding this answer; but Pan Adam shook his head, andsaid to Eliashevich,--
"Tell what thou hast seen."
"We are innocent, lord," answered Eliashevich; "we went at command. Themurza gave your gracious sister to Pan Adurovich, who had her in histent. I saw her in Kuchunkaury when she was going for water with pails;and I helped her to carry them, for she was heavy--"
"Woe!" muttered Pan Adam.
"But the other lady our murza himself had in his tent. We did not seeher so often; but we heard more than once how she screamed, for themurza, though he kept her for his pleasure, beat her with rods, andkicked her."
Pan Adam's lips began to quiver.
Eliashevich barely heard the question.
"Where are they now?"
"Sold in Stambul."
"To whom?"
"The murza himself does not know certainly. A command came from thePadishah to keep no women in camp. All sold their women in the bazaar;the murza sold his."
The explanation was finished, and at the fire silence set in; but forsome time a sultry afternoon wind shook the limbs of the trees, whichsounded more and more deeply. The air became stifling; on the edge ofthe horizon, black clouds appeared, dark in the centre, and shiningwith a copper-color on the edges.
Pan Adam walked away from the fire, and moved like one demented,without giving an account to himself of where he was going. At last hedropped with his face to the ground, and began to tear the earth withhis nails, then to gnaw his own hands, and then to gasp as if dying. Aconvulsion twisted his gigantic body, and he lay thus for hours. Thedragoons looked at him from a distance; but even Lusnia dared notapproach him.
Concluding that the commandant would not be angry at him for notsparing the Tartars, the terrible sergeant, impelled by pure inborncruelty, stuffed their mouths with grass, so as to avoid noise, andslaughtered them like bullocks. He spared Eliashevich alone, supposingthat he would be needed to guide them. When he had finished this work,he dragged away from the fire the bodies, still quivering, and put themin a row; he went then to look at the commandant.
"Even if he has gone mad," muttered Lusnia, "we must get that one."
Midday had passed, the afternoon hours as well, and the day wasinclining toward evening. But those clouds, small at first, occupiednow almost the whole heavens, and were growing ever thicker and darkerwithout losing that copper-colored gleam along the edges. Theirgigantic rolls turned heavily, like millstones on their own axes; thenthey fell on one another, crowded one another, and pushing one anotherfrom the height, rolled in a dense mass lower and lower toward theearth. The wind struck at times, like a bird of prey with its wings,bent the cornel-trees and the dogwood to the earth, tore away a cloudof leaves, and bore it apart with rage; at times it stopped as if ithad fallen into the ground. During such intervals of silence there washeard in the gathering clouds a certain ominous rattling, wheezing,rumbling; you would have said that legions of thunders were gatheringwithin them and ranging for battle, grumbling in deep voices whilerousing rage and fury in themselves, before they would burst out andstrike madly on the terrified earth.
"A storm, a storm is coming!" whispered the dragoons to one another.
The storm was coming. The air grew darker each instant.
Then on the east, from the side of the Dniester, thunder rose androlled with an awful outbreak along the heavens, till it went far away,beyond the Pruth; there it was silent for a moment, but springing upafresh, rushed toward the steppes of Budjyak, and rolled along thewhole horizon.
First, great drops of rain fell on the parched grass. At that momentPan Adam stood before the dragoons.
"To horse!" cried he, with a mighty voice.
And at the expiration of as much time as is needed to say a hurried"Our Father," he was moving at the head of a hundred and fiftyhorsemen. When he had ridden out of the woods, he joined, near the herdof horses, the other half of his men, who had been standing guard atthe field-side, to prevent any herdsmen from escaping by stealth to thecamp. The dragoons rushed around the herd in the twinkle of an eye, andgiving out wild shouts, peculiar to Tartars, moved on, urging beforethem the panic-stricken horses.
The sergeant held Eliashevich on a lariat, and shouted in his ear,trying to outsound the roar of the thunder,--
"Lead us on dog blood, and straight, or a knife in thy throat!"
Now the clouds rolled so low that they almost touched the earth. On asudden they burst, like an explosion in a furnace, and a raginghurricane was let loose; soon a blinding light rent the darkness, athunder-clap came, and after it a second, a third; the smell of sulphurspread in the air, and again there was darkness. Terror seized the herdof horses. The beasts, driven from behind by the wild shouts of thedragoons, ran with distended nostrils and flowing mane, scarcelytouching the earth in their onrush; the thunder did not cease for amoment; the wind roared, and the horses raced on madly in that wind, inthat darkness, amid explosions in which the earth seemed to bebreaking. Driven by the tempest and by vengeance, they were like aterrible company of vampires or evil spirits in that wild steppe.
Space fled before them. No guide was needed, for the herd ran straightto the camp of the Tartars, which was nearer and nearer. But beforethey had reached it, the storm was unchained, as if the sky and theearth had gone mad. The whole horizon blazed with living fire, by thegleam of which were seen the tents standing o
n the steppe; the worldwas quivering from the roar of thunders; it seemed that the cloudsmight burst any moment and tumble to the earth. In fact, their sluiceswere opened, and floods of rain began to deluge the steppe. Thedownfall was so dense that a few paces distant nothing could be seen,and from the earth, inflamed by the heat of the sun, a thick mist wassoon rising.
Yet a little while, and herd and dragoons will be in the camp.
But right before the tents the herd split, and ran to both sides inwild panic; three hundred breasts gave out a fearful shriek; threehundred sabres glittered in the flame of the lightning, and thedragoons fell on the tents.
Before the outburst of the torrent, the Tartars saw in thelightning-flashes the on-coming herd; but none of them knew whatterrible herdsmen were driving. Astonishment and alarm seized them;they wondered why the herd should rush straight at the tents; then theybegan to shout to frighten them away. Azya himself pushed aside thecanvas door, and in spite of the rain, went out with anger on histhreatening face. But that instant the herd split in two, and, amidtorrents of rain and in the fog, certain fierce forms looked black andmany times greater in number than the horse-herds; then the terriblecry, "Slay, kill!" was heard.
There was no time for anything, not even to guess what had happened,not even to be frightened. The hurricane of men, more dreadful andfurious by far than the tempest, whirled on to the camp. Before TugaiBey's son could retreat one step toward his tent, some power more thanhuman, as you would have said, raised him from the earth.
Suddenly he felt that a dreadful embrace was squeezing him, that fromits pressure his bones were bending and his ribs breaking; soon he saw,as if in mist, a face rather than which he would have seen Satan's, andfainted.
By that time the battle had begun, or rather the ghastly slaughter. Thestorm, the darkness, the unknown number of the assailants, thesuddenness of the attack, and the scattering of the horses were thecause that the Tartars scarcely defended themselves. The madness ofterror simply took possession of them. No one knew whither to escape,where to hide himself. Many had no weapons at hand; the attack foundmany asleep. Therefore, stunned, bewildered, and terrified, theygathered into dense groups, crowding, overturning, and trampling oneanother. The breasts of horses pushed them down, threw them to theground; sabres cut them, hoofs crushed them. A storm does not so break,destroy, and lay waste a young forest, wolves do not eat into a flockof bewildered sheep, as the dragoons trampled and cut down thoseTartars. On the one hand, bewilderment, on the other, rage andvengeance, completed the measure of their misfortune. Torrents of bloodwere mingled with the rain. It seemed to the Tartars that the sky wasfalling on them, that the earth was opening under their feet. The flashof lightning, the roar of thunder, the noise of rain, the darkness, theterror of the storm, answered to the dreadful outcries of theslaughtered. The horses of the dragoons, seized also with fear, rushed,as if maddened, into the throng, breaking it and stretching the men onthe ground. At length the smaller groups began to flee, but they hadlost knowledge of the place to such a degree that they fled around onthe scene of struggle, instead of fleeing straight forward; andfrequently they knocked against one another, like two opposing waves,struck one another, overturned one another, and went under the sword.At last the dragoons scattered the remnant of them completely, and slewthem in the flight, taking no prisoners, and pursuing without mercytill the trumpets called them back from pursuit.
Never had an attack been more unexpected, and never a defeat moreterrible. Three hundred men had scattered to the four winds of theworld nearly two thousand cavalry, surpassing incomparably in trainingthe ordinary chambuls. The greater part of them were lying flat in redpools of blood and rain. The rest dispersed, hid their heads, thanks tothe darkness, and escaped on foot, at random, not certain that theywould not run under the knife a second time. The storm and the darknessassisted the victors, as if the anger of God were fighting on theirside against traitors.
Night had fallen completely when Pan Adam moved out at the head of hisdragoons, to return to the boundaries of the Commonwealth. Between theyoung lieutenant and Lusnia, the sergeant, went a horse from the herd.On the back of this horse lay, bound with cords, the leader of all theLithuanian Tartars,--Azya, the son of Tugai Bey, with broken ribs. Hewas alive, but in a swoon. Both looked at him from time to time ascarefully and anxiously as if they were carrying a treasure, and werefearful of losing it.
The storm began to pass. On the heavens, legions of clouds were stillmoving, but in intervals between them, stars were beginning to shine,and to be reflected in lakes of water, formed on the steppe by thedense rain. In the distance, in the direction of the Commonwealth,thunder was still roaring from time to time.