Boris the Bear-Hunter
CHAPTER XXIV.WITH THE TSAR AGAIN.
Supper at Karapselka that night was a happy meal for Boris and hiswife, though Nancy, as a matter of fact, preserved her secret privateopinion as to the rights and wrongs of the quarrel over the Streltsi,and did not altogether forgive Peter for his conduct at that time.But Boris was happy in his restoration to the Tsar's favour--that wasenough for Nancy to think of to-night; and the Tsar was certainly allkindness and cordiality and friendship towards her husband. And so theevening was a right joyous one to herself as well as to Boris.
Peter declared that now he was here he should stay and have one morehunt with his bear-eater before returning to Moscow. As for his suiteand their feelings, they deserved a lesson for their awkwardness inlosing their master in the forest. They might roam the woods in searchof him all night and to-morrow morning as well. If one or two of thelazy hounds were eaten by wolves, so much the better; there would bevacancies for better men!
Accordingly, arrangements were made for the Tsar to sleep atKarapselka, and Nancy went upstairs to prepare the best bed and themost luxurious coverings and decorations that the house afforded. Andan extremely good piece of work she made of it; for Nancy was a youngperson of some taste in these matters. But when the Tsar was shown,with pride, to his chamber, the very first thing he did was to gatherall these Turkish coverings and Persian silk draperies and fineriestogether and pitch an armful of them outside the door; after which hedragged the hardest of the mattresses from the bedstead, laid it uponthe floor, and slept upon it.
In the morning, Tsar and hunter had a great spin on snow-shoes. Theyfound a lynx track, which was great good luck, Boris said, for lynxesare rare; and following it for miles, they eventually came so closeupon the animal's heels that it was forced to run up a tree to avoidbeing caught and killed from behind. No shaking of the tree from belowcould bring the lynx to the ground, and it appeared that the animalmust either be shot in the tree or fetched down by hand--which isan exceedingly unpleasant process, and not to be recommended to theamateur.
"Now, Boris," said the Tsar, "shall it be you or I? We are both fairlygood at climbing the rigging!" But the hunter could not think of a Tsarof Russia climbing a pine tree after a lynx, and was half-way up beforethe words were well out of Peter's mouth.
The lynx looked down the tree and up the tree, and ran up a littlehigher, till the top of the pine bent with its weight like afishing-rod. Then it looked at the next tree, which was the betterpart of ten yards away; and glared down at Boris, and hissed like agreat cat at bay to a dog. Suddenly the creature jumped straight forthe nearest tree, and alighted fairly upon an outstanding branch; but,alas, the branch was a dead one, and broke with the weight, and downcame the lynx with a thud to the earth close to the feet of the Tsar.Down came Boris also, almost as rapidly, and he and the Tsar threwthemselves upon the animal almost at the same instant.
Though stunned with its fall, the infuriated lynx, which vies withthe tiger for ferocity when at bay, instantly seized the Tsar by theleg--the imperial limb being clad, luckily for the imperial feelings,in thick Russian thigh-boots--whereupon Peter caught the animal'sneck with one great hand, and deftly passed his knife across itsyellow throat with the other. The sharp teeth loosened their hold ofthe leather hunting-boots, the terrible claws relaxed, the wicked,yellow-green eye grew slowly dim, and the lynx lay dead at Peter's feet.
The Tsar was as pleased as a schoolboy with his success, and togetherhe and Boris skinned the creature as a memento of the exploit.
Afterwards, as the pair strolled together through the woods, the talkfell upon politics and the projects of Peter. War was certain andimminent, the Tsar said; Poland had joined with him in an engagement todrive the Swede out of the Baltic.
"Only think of it, my Bear-eater," said Peter, "the Baltic!--ports,Boris, seaports! How we shall fight for our windows. If it takes us ascore of years, we shall have them!"
The Tsar spoke more prophetically than he knew of; for those ports werewon indeed, but the final winning of them actually did cost Russiatwenty years of fighting by sea and land, so stubborn was the struggle.
Then came the question as to what part Boris should play in theseweighty projects which were so soon to be embarked upon; and at thispoint the hunter's exultation received a check, for Peter spoke asthough it must be taken for granted that Boris would recommence hiscareer at the foot of the ladder--he must enlist. That, the Tsarexplained, was indispensable; for he could not stultify himselfby taking Boris back straight into all the ranks and dignities ofhis former position. What would the rest of the officers of thePreobrajensk think? Yes, Boris must enlist.
Boris looked foolish, but said nothing. For the life of him, he couldnot tell whether the Tsar was pleased to joke with him or was serious.
"I am only a major myself, you know," continued Peter, "and I cannothave officers admitted into the regiment at a grade senior to my own;that would delay my promotion."
"Very well then, your Majesty," said Boris, simply because he couldthink of nothing else to say, "then I enlist."
"Come, come, then," said Peter, "we've made a start. I congratulateyou, Mr. Private-soldier Boris Ivanitch, and may your promotion bespeedy!"
Boris began to think that the Tsar was scarcely treating an old friendvery generously. He grinned, however, weakly, because there was nothingelse to do, and said he was "much obliged."
"Let me see," Peter continued, after a pause; "was it you or was itanother who saved me from an old she-bear at Archangel some yearssince?"
Boris began to fear for the Tsar's reason, but he replied,--
"It was I, your Majesty; but then you had befriended me a few daysbefore, so that we were quits for that."
"What! the bear you ran away from? Dear me! yes; so I did. Well, well,never mind that. As I was about to observe, in consideration of theservice you did me on that day, I think you might be allowed a step inrank--say a corporal. You are promoted, Mr. Corporal!"
"I am extremely obliged," said poor Boris, bewildered.
"Who was it behaved rather well that afternoon when the pack of wolvesattacked us?" asked Peter, with perfectly-assumed seriousness, a minuteor two later. "Was it you or old Ivan the driver?"
"Oh, Ivan, your Majesty," said Boris, nettled at the Tsar's levity.
"Ah, modest as usual!" said the Tsar. "But it won't do, Boris; you mustbe promoted, whether you like it or not! Sergeant of the Preobrajensk,I congratulate you!"
"Thank you, your Majesty; but surely I have already received all therecognition those services deserved, for you rewarded me well at thetime with many favours."
"Well, now, there's a good deal in what you say," said Peter, stillquite serious, "and perhaps you are right. Your promotion, Mr.Sergeant Boris Ivanitch, should, properly speaking, follow some signalachievement of the present time, and not be awarded for services longpast. Now, see what I have in my mind. You were a good jumper in theold days; I daresay you are stiffer now, for want of practice. HereI lay my cap on the ground: for every foot you can jump beyond thedistance of five yards, you shall have a step in rank. There, now,that's fair enough; only don't jump yourself into a major-general, forI have too many of them on my hands already."
"Come, come!" thought Boris, "if the Tsar is in this playful mood, I'mhis man!" So the hunter stripped off his kaftan and laid aside hisheavy long-boots, and chose a spot where the snow was hard enough tobear him running over it, and stood ready to jump for his rank andposition in life.
"Three jumps," said the Tsar, "and I'll measure the best. My foot isjust an English foot, without the boot."
Boris girt up his loins, took a good run, and launched himself intospace. But he was stiff, and barely cleared the five-yard mark plantedby the Tsar.
"Only just got your commission," Peter remarked. "That won't do; youmust leap better than that."
At the second attempt Boris cleared a foot and a half over the mark.
"Better!" said the Tsar; "but leap well up for your last!"
/> This time the hunter, who was getting into the way of it now, sprang solightly and powerfully that the Tsar ran up excitedly to measure thedistance. As he placed his feet down one behind the other, measuring,he ticked off the promotions thus:--
"Sub-lieutenant, lieutenant, captain, major, and a bit--say brevetlieutenant-colonel. Bravo, bravo, Colonel Bear-eater, 'tis a goodjump--nineteen and a half feet--and it has landed you one gradeabove me! A good jump indeed!" And so pleased was the Tsar with hispleasantry, that he caused Boris's commission to be made out endorsedwith all these promotions, "for special service."
* * * * *
Boris found great changes in Moscow. As he and the Tsar reached thewestern gate of the city, the hunter was immensely surprised to observehanging upon a large post what at first sight appeared to be a humanbeing, but which proved, on closer inspection, to be a suit of clothessuch as he had seen worn in London by the people of the country.Written underneath the clothes, in large letters that all might read,was a notice to the effect that it was the Tsar's will that all hissubjects above the rank of peasant should wear clothes of a cut similarto the suit here represented. Any who left or arrived in the city byany gate thereof, at any time after the 1st January 1700, withouthaving previously complied with this ookaz, should be condemned to paya heavy fine, or submit to have their kaftans cut short to the knee bythe gatekeeper.
Peter informed his companion that most people had quietly submitted tothe change, but that there were still many who would neither wear thenew clothes nor pay the fine which would be payable at each passingthrough the gates of the city, whether leaving or returning; and thatthese men went with kaftans cut short to the knee, to the huge delightof the people.
Boris saw the gatekeeper in the act of cutting down a kaftan; andcertainly the appearance of the obstinate gentleman who wore it wasfunny enough to justify the amusement which it caused to the yellingand hooting crowd who watched him leave the place. Boris laughed tillthe tears ran down his cheeks, as he stood with the Tsar and looked onat the comedy; nor did he stop laughing until the Tsar jogged him bythe elbow and said, "Come, Bear-eater, your turn; will you pay up or becut short?" Then Boris laughed no more, but paid up with the best gracehe could.
And this was the Tsar's method of teaching his people the way to dress_a l'Anglais_. Boris noticed, further, that beards were no longerworn in Moscow, and found that this also was the result of an ookazfrom Peter, which ookaz cost Boris himself a very fine specimen ofa patriarchal Russian beard; indeed, when he rode down next day toKarapselka, poor Nancy did not recognize him in his new style ofapparel and without the flowing ornament to his chin, though she wasbound to admit, when she became used to them, that both the changeswere great improvements to his personal appearance.
The officers of the Preobrajensk greeted Boris as one returned fromthe grave. He had always been a favourite with his fellows, and theirdelight to have him back among them was cordial and sincere. From themBoris learned that the Tsar's evil humour had lasted for long monthsafter the hunter's banishment from Moscow; and that his bitternessagainst Boris must have been deep indeed, for that he had never oncementioned the name of the bear-hunter in all the three years of hisabsence. Accordingly, they congratulated him the more sincerelyupon his return to favour; and when Boris described to the mess,or rather to the assembled officers at the favourite eating-house,where his return was celebrated, how he had literally jumped fromnon-commissioned rank to that of brevet lieutenant-colonel, they fairlyroared with laughter in their delight, for, they said, the Tsar mustbe quite coming round again to his old _status quo ante Streltsi_, andthey had not heard of so "Peterish" an action on his part for many along day.
So, at last, after three years of quiet life in exile at Karapselka,Boris was restored to favour, and entered once more upon an activemilitary career. For the next three or four years he enjoyed manyopportunities of distinguishing himself in arms, and of engaging inthe kind of stirring adventure which his soul loved; for, a few monthsafter his arrival, with Nancy and her babies, in his new Moscow home,war was declared with Sweden, and the entire army lately raised byPeter and carefully drilled by himself and his trusted veteran officersat Preobrajensk, together with the four old regiments raised by Lefortand Peter for the siege of Azof, marched away for the Swedish fortressof Narva, and with them went Boris the Hunter.