The Cossacks: A Tale of 1852

  Chapter XXXV

  The next day was a holiday. In the evening all the villagers, theirholiday clothes shining in the sunset, were out in the street. Thatseason more wine than usual had been produced, and the people were nowfree from their labours. In a month the Cossacks were to start on acampaign and in many families preparations were being made for weddings.

  Most of the people were standing in the square in front of the CossackGovernment Office and near the two shops, in one of which cakes andpumpkin seeds were sold, in the other kerchiefs and cotton prints. Onthe earth-embankment of the office-building sat or stood the old men insober grey, or black coats without gold trimmings or any kind ofornament. They conversed among themselves quietly in measured tones,about the harvest, about the young folk, about village affairs, andabout old times, looking with dignified equanimity at the youngergeneration. Passing by them, the women and girls stopped and bent theirheads. The young Cossacks respectfully slackened their pace and raisedtheir caps, holding them for a while over their heads. The old men thenstopped speaking. Some of them watched the passers-by severely, otherskindly, and in their turn slowly took off their caps and put them onagain.

  The Cossack girls had not yet started dancing their khorovods, buthaving gathered in groups, in their bright coloured beshmets with whitekerchiefs on their heads pulled down to their eyes, they sat either onthe ground or on the earth-banks about the huts sheltered from theoblique rays of the sun, and laughed and chattered in their ringingvoices. Little boys and girls playing in the square sent their ballshigh up into the clear sky, and ran about squealing and shouting. Thehalf-grown girls had started dancing their khorovods, and were timidlysinging in their thin shrill voices. Clerks, lads not in the service,or home for the holiday, bright-faced and wearing smart white or newred Circassian gold-trimmed coats, went about arm in arm in twos orthrees from one group of women or girls to another, and stopped to jokeand chat with the Cossack girls. The Armenian shopkeeper, in agold-trimmed coat of fine blue cloth, stood at the open door throughwhich piles of folded bright-coloured kerchiefs were visible and,conscious of his own importance and with the pride of an Orientaltradesman, waited for customers. Two red-bearded, barefooted Chechens,who had come from beyond the Terek to see the fete, sat on their heelsoutside the house of a friend, negligently smoking their little pipesand occasionally spitting, watching the villagers and exchangingremarks with one another in their rapid guttural speech. Occasionally aworkaday-looking soldier in an old overcoat passed across the squareamong the bright-clad girls. Here and there the songs of tipsy Cossackswho were merry-making could already be heard. All the huts were closed;the porches had been scrubbed clean the day before. Even the old womenwere out in the street, which was everywhere sprinkled with pumpkin andmelon seed-shells. The air was warm and still, the sky deep and clear.Beyond the roofs the dead-white mountain range, which seemed very near,was turning rosy in the glow of the evening sun. Now and then from theother side of the river came the distant roar of a cannon, but abovethe village, mingling with one another, floated all sorts of merryholiday sounds.

  Olenin had been pacing the yard all that morning hoping to seeMaryanka. But she, having put on holiday clothes, went to Mass at thechapel and afterwards sat with the other girls on an earth-embankmentcracking seeds; sometimes again, together with her companions, she ranhome, and each time gave the lodger a bright and kindly look. Oleninfelt afraid to address her playfully or in the presence of others. Hewished to finish telling her what he had begun to say the night before,and to get her to give him a definite answer. He waited for anothermoment like that of yesterday evening, but the moment did not come, andhe felt that he could not remain any longer in this uncertainty. Shewent out into the street again, and after waiting awhile he too wentout and without knowing where he was going he followed her. He passedby the corner where she was sitting in her shining blue satin beshmet,and with an aching heart he heard behind him the girls laughing.

  Beletski's hut looked out onto the square. As Olenin was passing it heheard Beletski's voice calling to him, 'Come in,' and in he went.

  After a short talk they both sat down by the window and were soonjoined by Eroshka, who entered dressed in a new beshmet and sat down onthe floor beside them.

  'There, that's the aristocratic party,' said Beletski, pointing withhis cigarette to a brightly coloured group at the corner. 'Mine isthere too. Do you see her? in red. That's a new beshmet. Why don't youstart the khorovod?' he shouted, leaning out of the window. 'Wait abit, and then when it grows dark let us go too. Then we will invitethem to Ustenka's. We must arrange a ball for them!'

  'And I will come to Ustenka's,' said Olenin in a decided tone. 'WillMaryanka be there?'

  'Yes, she'll be there. Do come!' said Beletski, without the leastsurprise. 'But isn't it a pretty picture?' he added, pointing to themotley crowds.

  'Yes, very!' Olenin assented, trying to appear indifferent.

  'Holidays of this kind,' he added, 'always make me wonder why all thesepeople should suddenly be contented and jolly. To-day for instance,just because it happens to be the fifteenth of the month, everything isfestive. Eyes and faces and voices and movements and garments, and theair and the sun, are all in a holiday mood. And we no longer have anyholidays!'

  'Yes,' said Beletski, who did not like such reflections.

  'And why are you not drinking, old fellow?' he said, turning to Eroshka.

  Eroshka winked at Olenin, pointing to Beletski. 'Eh, he's a proud onethat kunak of yours,' he said.

  Beletski raised his glass. ALLAH BIRDY' he said, emptying it. (ALLAHBIRDY, 'God has given!'--the usual greeting of Caucasians when drinkingtogether.)

  'Sau bul' ('Your health'), answered Eroshka smiling, and emptied hisglass.

  'Speaking of holidays!' he said, turning to Olenin as he rose andlooked out of the window, 'What sort of holiday is that! You shouldhave seen them make merry in the old days! The women used to come outin their gold--trimmed sarafans. Two rows of gold coins hanging roundtheir necks and gold-cloth diadems on their heads, and when they passedthey made a noise, "flu, flu," with their dresses. Every woman lookedlike a princess. Sometimes they'd come out, a whole herd of them, andbegin singing songs so that the air seemed to rumble, and they went onmaking merry all night. And the Cossacks would roll out a barrel intothe yards and sit down and drink till break of day, or they would gohand-in-hand sweeping the village. Whoever they met they seized andtook along with them, and went from house to house. Sometimes they usedto make merry for three days on end. Father used to come home--I stillremember it--quite red and swollen, without a cap, having losteverything: he'd come and lie down. Mother knew what to do: she wouldbring him some fresh caviar and a little chikhir to sober him up, andwould herself run about in the village looking for his cap. Then he'dsleep for two days! That's the sort of fellows they were then! But nowwhat are they?'

  'Well, and the girls in the sarafans, did they make merry all bythemselves?' asked Beletski.

  'Yes, they did! Sometimes Cossacks would come on foot or on horse andsay, "Let's break up the khorovods," and they'd go, but the girls wouldtake up cudgels. Carnival week, some young fellow would come gallopingup, and they'd cudgel his horse and cudgel him too. But he'd breakthrough, seize the one he loved, and carry her off. And his sweetheartwould love him to his heart's content! Yes, the girls in those days,they were regular queens!'