De: A Sportsman's Sketches
-- In the old rolnya {A "rolnya" or "scooping house" at paper mills is the building where paper is scooped from vats. It is located right at the dam, under the wheel. (Note by I.S. Turgenev.)}. -- Do you really go to the factory? -- Of course we do. My brother Avdyushka and I work as lisovshchiki {Lisovshchiki smooth and scrape paper. (Note by I.S. Turgenev.)}. -- Well I'll be -- factory workers!.. -- So how did you hear it? -- asked Fedya. -- Like this. My brother Avdyushka and I had to be there, along with Fyodor Mikheevsky, and Ivashka the Cross-eyed, and another Ivashka from Red Hills, and Ivashka Sukhorukov too, and there were other boys there; there were about ten of us boys altogether -- a whole shift; but we had to spend the night in the rolnya, that is, not exactly had to, but Nazarov, the overseer, forbade us; he says: "Why should you boys drag yourselves home; there's a lot of work tomorrow, so you boys don't go home." So we stayed and all lay down together, and Avdyushka started saying, well boys, what if the house spirit comes?.. And no sooner had he, Avdey, said this, than suddenly someone started walking above our heads; but we were lying below, and he was walking above, by the wheel. We hear him: walking, and the boards under him bending and creaking; then he passed over our heads; the water suddenly started rushing over the wheel, rushing and rushing; the wheel started knocking, knocking, and turning; but the gates at the dvorets {"Dvorets" is what we call the place where water runs onto the wheel. (Note by I.S. Turgenev.)} were lowered. We wonder: who raised them so the water started flowing; but the wheel turned and turned, then stopped. That one went again to the door above and started descending the stairs, and you could hear he wasn't hurrying; the steps under him even groaned... Well, he approached our door, waited, waited -- the door suddenly flung wide open. We were startled, looked -- nothing... Suddenly, look, at one vat the forma {The sieve with which paper is scooped. (Note by I.S. Turgenev.)} stirred, rose, dipped, moved about, moved about in the air, as if someone was rinsing it, then back in place. Then at another vat a hook came off the nail and back on the nail; then as if someone went to the door and suddenly started coughing, choking, like a sheep or something, but so loudly... We all fell in a heap, climbing under one another... How frightened we were at that time! -- Well, well! -- Pavel remarked. -- Why did it start coughing? -- I don't know; maybe from the dampness. Everyone fell silent. -- What, -- Fedya asked, -- are the potatoes cooked? Pavlusha felt them. -- No, still raw... Listen, it splashed, -- he added, turning his face toward the river, -- must be a pike... And there a little star fell. -- No, I'll tell you what, brothers, -- Kostya began in a thin voice, -- listen, the other day what my father told me when I was there. -- Well, we're listening, -- said Fedya with a patronizing air. -- You know Gavrila, the village carpenter? -- Well yes; we know him. -- And do you know why he's always so cheerless, always silent, you know? This is why he's so cheerless. He went once, my father said, -- he went, my brothers, to the forest for nuts. So he went to the forest for nuts, and got lost; went -- God knows where he went. He walked and walked, brothers, -- no! can't find the road; and night had already come. So he sat down under a tree; let me, he says, wait till morning, -- sat down and dozed off. So he dozed off and suddenly hears someone calling him. Looks -- nobody. He dozed off again -- called again. He looks again, looks: and before him on a branch sits a rusalka, swaying and calling him to her, and she's dying of laughter, laughing... And the moon was shining strongly, so strongly, clearly the moon was shining -- everything, my brothers, was visible. So she's calling him, and she herself is all light, all white sitting on the branch, like some roach or gudgeon, -- or else there's carp that are so whitish, silvery... Gavrila the carpenter just froze, my brothers, but she kept laughing and calling him to her with her hand. Gavrila almost got up, almost obeyed the rusalka, my brothers, but, apparently, the Lord put sense into him: he made the sign of the cross over himself... But how hard it was for him to make that cross, my brothers; he says his hand was just like stone, wouldn't move... Oh you devil, eh!.. So when he made the cross, my brothers, the rusalka stopped laughing, and suddenly started crying... She's crying, my brothers, wiping her eyes with her hair, and her hair is green, like hemp. So Gavrila looked and looked at her, then started asking her: "Why are you crying, forest evil?" And the rusalka says to him: "If you hadn't crossed yourself, man, you would have lived with me in merriment till the end of your days; but I cry, I grieve because you crossed yourself; but not I alone will grieve: grieve too till the end of your days." Then she, my brothers, disappeared, and it immediately became clear to Gavrila how to get out of the forest... But ever since then he goes about cheerless. -- Well! -- said Fedya after a short silence, -- but how can such forest evil ruin a Christian soul, -- he didn't obey her? -- Yes, there you go! -- said Kostya. -- And Gavrila said that her voice, he says, was so thin, plaintive, like a toad's. -- Your father told this himself? -- Fedya continued. -- Himself. I was lying on the shelf, heard everything. -- A strange thing! Why should he be cheerless?.. Well, apparently, she liked him, since she called him. -- Yes, liked him! -- Ilyusha picked up. -- Of course! She wanted to tickle him to death, that's what she wanted. That's their business, these rusalkas. -- But surely there must be rusalkas here too, -- Fedya remarked. -- No, -- Kostya answered, -- this is a clean place, open. Only -- the river is near. Everyone fell silent. Suddenly, somewhere in the distance, rang out a long, ringing, almost moaning sound, one of those incomprehensible night sounds that sometimes arise amid deep silence, rise, hang in the air and slowly spread at last, as if dying away. You listen -- and it's as if there's nothing, but it rings. It seemed someone cried out long, long under the very horizon, someone else seemed to respond in the forest with thin, sharp laughter, and a weak, hissing whistle rushed along the river. The boys exchanged glances, shuddered... -- May the Cross be with us! -- Ilya whispered. -- Hey you, crows! -- Pavel shouted. -- What are you startled about? Look, the potatoes are cooked. (Everyone moved closer to the pot and began eating the steaming potatoes; only Vanya didn't stir.) What about you? -- Pavel said. But he didn't come out from under his mat. The pot was soon completely emptied. -- Have you heard, boys, -- Ilyusha began, -- what happened the other day at our Varnavitsy? -- At the dam? -- Fedya asked. -- Yes, yes, at the dam, at the broken one. That's an unclean place, so unclean, and so desolate. All around are gullies, ravines, and in the ravines all kazuli {In Oryol dialect: snakes. (Note by I.S. Turgenev.)} live. -- Well, what happened? Tell us... -- And this is what happened. You, Fedya, may not know, but a drowned man is buried there; and he drowned long, long ago, when the pond was still deep; but his grave is still visible, though barely visible: just a little mound... So the other day, the steward calls the dog-keeper Ermil; says: "Go, he says, Ermil, to the post office." Ermil always goes to the post office for us; he's killed all his dogs -- they don't live with him for some reason, never have lived, but he's a good dog-keeper, has everything. So Ermil went for the post, and lingered in town, but rode back already tipsy. And it was night, and a bright night: the moon was shining... So Ermil is riding across the dam: that's the way his road went. He's riding along, this dog-keeper Ermil, and sees: on the drowned man's grave a little lamb, white, curly, pretty, is walking about. So Ermil thinks: "I'll take it, -- why should it perish like that," and got down, and took it in his arms... But the lamb -- nothing. So Ermil goes to the horse, but the horse shies away from him, snorts, shakes its head; but he calmed it down, got on it with the lamb and rode on: holding the lamb in front of him. He looks at it, and the lamb looks him straight in the eyes. Ermil the dog-keeper felt uneasy: "I don't remember, he says, rams looking people in the eyes like that;" but nothing; he started stroking its wool, -- says: "Baa, baa!" And the ram suddenly bares its teeth, and says to him too: "Baa, baa..." No sooner had the storyteller uttered this last word, than suddenly both dogs jumped up at once, rushed away from the fire with convulsive barking and disappeared into the darkness. All the boys were frightened. Vanya jumped out from under his mat. Pavlusha with a shout rushed after the dogs. Their barking quickly receded... The anxious running of the startled herd could be heard. Pavlusha was shouting loudly: "Gray! Zhuchka!.." In a few moments the barking fell silent; Pavel's voice came already from afar... A little more time passed; the boys exchanged bewildered glances, as if waiting for what would happen... Suddenly the tramping of a galloping horse rang out; it stopped sharply right at the fire, and, grabbing the mane, Pavlusha nimbly jumped off. Both dogs also jumped into the circle of light and immediately sat down, tongues hanging out. -- What's there? What is it? -- the boys asked. -- Nothing, -- Pavel answered, waving his hand at the horse, -- the dogs just scented something. I thought it was a wolf, -- he added in an indifferent voice, breathing rapidly with his whole chest. I couldn't help but admire Pavlusha. He was very fine at that moment. His plain face, animated by the quick ride, glowed with bold daring and firm resolve. Without even a stick in his hand, at night, he galloped alone at a wolf without the slightest hesitation... "What a splendid boy!" -- I thought, looking at him. -- Did you see them, the wolves? -- asked the timid Kostya. -- There are always many of them here, -- Pavel answered, -- but they're only troublesome in winter. He settled down again by the fire. Sitting on the ground, he laid his hand on the shaggy nape of one of the dogs, and for a long time the delighted animal didn't turn its head, looking sideways at Pavlusha with grateful pride. Vanya again huddled under the mat. -- What scary stories you were telling us, Ilyushka, -- Fedya began, who, as the son of a wealthy peasant, had to be the leader (though he himself spoke little, as if afraid of lowering his dignity). -- And the devil made the dogs bark... But truly, I've heard that place of yours is unclean. -- Varnavitsy?.. Of course! what an unclean place! They say the old master has been seen there many times -- the deceased master. They say he walks in a long caftan and keeps moaning, looking for something on the ground. Once grandfather Trofimych met him: "What, he says, father, Ivan Ivanych, are you pleased to be looking for on the ground?" -- He asked him? -- interrupted the astonished Fedya. -- Yes, asked him. -- Well, Trofimych is quite a fellow after that... Well, and what did he say? -- Razryv-grass, he says, I'm looking for. -- And he spoke so hollowly, hollowly: -- Razryv-grass. -- And why do you need, father Ivan Ivanych, razryv-grass? -- The grave presses, he says, Trofimych: it presses... I want out, out... -- Well, well! -- Fedya remarked, -- didn't live long enough, apparently. -- What a wonder! -- Kostya said. -- I thought you could only see the dead on Parents' Saturday. -- You can see the dead any time, -- Ilyusha picked up confidently, who, as far as I could tell, knew all the village superstitions best... -- But on Parents' Saturday you can see the living too, those, that is, whose turn it is to die that year. You just have to sit on the church porch at night and keep looking at the road. Those will walk past you on the road who, that is, will die that year. Last year our woman Ulyana went to the porch. -- Well, and did she see anyone? -- Kostya asked with curiosity. -- Of course. First she sat for a long, long time, didn't see or hear anyone... only it was as if a little dog kept barking, barking somewhere... Suddenly, she looks: a boy is walking along the path in just a shirt. She looked closer -- Ivashka Fedoseev is walking... -- The one who died in spring? -- Fedya interrupted. -- The very same. Walking and not lifting his head... And Ulyana recognized him... But then she looks: a woman is walking. She peered and peered -- oh Lord! -- she herself is walking along the road, Ulyana herself. -- Really herself? -- Fedya asked. -- By God, herself. -- Well what, she hasn't died yet, has she? -- The year hasn't passed yet. But look at her: barely alive. Everyone fell silent again. Pavel threw a handful of dry twigs on the fire. They sharply blackened against the suddenly flaring flame, crackled, began smoking and curling, lifting their charred ends. The reflection of light struck out, trembling fitfully in all directions, especially upward. Suddenly, out of nowhere, a white dove -- flew straight into this reflection, fluttered fearfully in one spot, bathed in hot brilliance, and disappeared, wings whirring. -- Must have strayed from home, -- Pavel remarked. -- Now it will fly until it hits something, and where it lands, there it will spend the night till dawn. -- Well, Pavlusha, -- Kostya said, -- wasn't that a righteous soul flying to heaven, eh? Pavel threw another handful of twigs on the fire. -- Maybe, -- he said at last. -- Tell me, please, Pavlusha, -- Fedya began, -- did you also see the heavenly providence in your Shalamovo? {This is what our peasants call a solar eclipse. (Note by I.S. Turgenev.)} -- When the sun disappeared? Of course. -- Were you frightened too? -- Not just us. Our master, though he explained to us beforehand that, he says, there will be a providence for you, but when it got dark, they say he got so scared himself, can you imagine. And the cook in the servants' quarters, when it got dark, listen to this, she took the poker and smashed all the pots in the oven: "Who needs to eat now, she says, the end of the world has come." So the cabbage soup just poured out. And in our village such rumors, brother, were going around, that, they say, white wolves will run across the earth, will eat people, a bird of prey will fly, or they'll even see Trishka himself {The belief about "Trishka" probably echoes the legend of the antichrist. (Note by I.S. Turgenev.)}. -- What Trishka is that? -- Kostya asked. -- Don't you know? -- Ilyusha eagerly picked up. -- Well, brother, where are you from that you don't know about Trishka? Such stay-at-homes in your village, real stay-at-homes! Trishka -- he'll be such an amazing man, who will come; and he'll come when the last times arrive. And he'll be such an amazing man that you won't be able to catch him, and you won't be able to do anything to him: such an amazing man he'll be. The peasants will want, for example, to catch him; they'll go out at him with clubs, surround him, but he'll deceive their eyes -- so deceive their eyes that they'll beat each other. They'll put him in jail, for example, -- he'll ask for water to drink in a dipper: they'll bring him a dipper, and he'll dive into it, and that's the last you'll see of him. They'll put chains on him, and he'll just clap his hands -- and they'll fall right off him. Well, and this Trishka will walk through villages and towns; and this Trishka, a cunning man, will tempt the Christian people... well, but you won't be able to do anything to him... Such an amazing, cunning man he'll be. -- Well yes, -- Pavel continued in his unhurried voice, -- such a one. So they were waiting for him at our place. The old people said that now, they say, as soon as the heavenly providence begins, Trishka will come. So the providence began. The whole people poured out into the street, into the field, waiting for what would happen. And at our place, you know, it's a visible spot, spacious. They look -- suddenly from the village from the hill comes some man, such a strange one, with such an amazing head... Everyone shouted out: "Oh, Trishka is coming! oh, Trishka is coming!" -- and everyone scattered! Our elder crawled into a ditch; the elder's wife got stuck in the gateway, screaming bloody murder, frightened her own yard dog so that it broke off the chain, over the fence, into the forest; and Kuzka's father, Dorofeich, jumped into the oats, crouched down, and started crying like a quail: "Maybe, he says, the enemy, the soul-destroyer, will at least spare a bird"... That's how everyone got frightened!.. But the man who was walking was our cooper, Vavila: he'd bought himself a new tub and put the empty tub on his head. All the boys laughed and fell silent again for a moment, as often happens with people talking in the open air. I looked around: the night stood solemn and majestic; the damp freshness of late evening had been replaced by midnight's dry warmth, and it would lie like a soft canopy over the sleeping fields for a long time yet; much time remained before the first babbling, before the first rustlings and whisperings of morning, before the first dewdrops of dawn. There was no moon in the sky: it rose late at that time. Countless golden stars seemed to flow quietly, all twinkling in rivalry, in the direction of the Milky Way, and truly, looking at them, you seemed to feel dimly yourself the headlong, ceaseless course of the earth... A strange, harsh, painful cry rang out suddenly twice in succession over the river and, after a few moments, was repeated farther away... Kostya shuddered. "What's that?" -- It's a heron crying, -- Pavel calmly replied. -- A heron, -- Kostya repeated... -- But what, Pavlusha, I heard yesterday evening, -- he added after a short silence, -- you might know... -- What did you hear? -- This is what I heard. I was going from Stone Ridge to Shashkino; and I went first all through our hazel grove, then across the meadow -- you know, where it comes out at the sugibel {Sugibel -- a sharp turn in a ravine. (Note by I.S. Turgenev.)}, -- there's a buchilo {Buchilo -- a deep hole with spring water remaining after a flood, which doesn't dry up even in summer. (Note by I.S. Turgenev.)} there; you know, it's all overgrown with reeds; so I went past this buchilo, my brothers, and suddenly from that buchilo someone started moaning, and so pitifully, pitifully: ooh... ooh... ooh! Such fear seized me, my brothers: it was late, and the voice was so sickly. I felt like crying myself... What could that have been? eh? -- In that buchilo last year thieves drowned Akim the forester, -- Pavel remarked, -- so maybe his soul is complaining. -- Well, that must be it, my brothers, -- Kostya replied, widening his already enormous eyes... -- I didn't know that Akim was drowned in that buchilo: I would have been even more frightened. -- And then, they say, there are such tiny frogs, -- Pavel continued, -- that cry so pitifully. -- Frogs? Well, no, it wasn't frogs... what kind of... (The heron cried again over the river.) There it is! -- Kostya involuntarily exclaimed, -- just like a wood-goblin crying. -- A wood-goblin doesn't cry, he's mute, -- Ilyusha picked up, -- he only claps his hands and rattles... -- Have you seen him, the wood-goblin? -- Fedya mockingly interrupted. -- No, I haven't seen him, and God forbid I should see him; but others have seen him. Just the other day he led one of our peasants astray: led him, led him through the forest, and all around one clearing... He barely made it home by dawn. -- Well, and did he see him? -- He saw him. Says he stood big, big, dark, wrapped up, so you couldn't make him out well, as if hiding from the moon, and stares, stares with those eyes, blinking them, blinking... -- Oh! -- Fedya exclaimed, slightly shuddering and hunching his shoulders, -- ugh!.. -- And why has this filth spread in the world? -- Pavel remarked. -- Really don't understand! -- Don't curse, watch out, he'll hear, -- Ilya remarked. Silence fell again. -- Look, look, boys, -- Vanya's childish voice suddenly rang out, -- look at God's little stars -- like bees swarming! He stuck his fresh little face out from under the mat, leaned on his fist and slowly raised his big quiet eyes upward. The eyes of all the boys rose to the sky and didn't lower for some time. -- Well, Vanya, -- Fedya said affectionately, -- is your sister Anyutka well? -- Well, -- Vanya answered with a slight lisp. -- Tell her -- why doesn't she come to us?.. -- I don't know. -- Tell her to come. -- I'll tell her. -- Tell her I'll give her a treat. -- And will you give me one? -- I'll give you one too. Vanya sighed. -- Well, no, I don't need it. Give it to her instead: she's so kind, our girl. And Vanya again laid his head on the ground. Pavel stood up and took the empty pot in his hand. -- Where are you going? -- Fedya asked him. -- To the river, to get some water: I feel like drinking some water. The dogs got up and followed him. -- Watch out you don't fall in the river! -- Ilyusha called after him. -- Why would he fall? -- said Fedya, -- he'll be careful. -- Yes, he'll be careful. Anything can happen: he'll bend down, start scooping water, and the water-sprite will grab him by the hand and drag him to himself. Later they'll say: the boy fell, they say, into the water... What kind of fell?.. There, he's gone into the reeds, -- he added, listening. The reeds indeed were "rustling," as we say, parting. -- Is it true, -- Kostya asked, -- that Akulina the fool has been mad since she was in the water? -- Since then... What she's like now! But they say she used to be a beauty. The water-sprite ruined her. Apparently didn't expect they'd pull her out so soon. So he ruined her there, at his place on the bottom. (I myself have met this Akulina more than once. Covered in rags, terribly thin, with a face black as coal, a clouded gaze and eternally bared teeth, she tramples for whole hours in one spot, somewhere on the road, pressing her bony hands tightly to her chest and slowly shifting from foot to foot, like a wild beast in a cage. She understands nothing, whatever you say to her, and only occasionally laughs convulsively.) -- And they say, -- Kostya continued, -- that Akulina threw herself in the river because her lover deceived her. -- That's the very reason. -- And do you remember Vasya? -- Kostya added sadly. -- What Vasya? -- Fedya asked. -- The one who drowned, -- Kostya answered, -- in this very river. Oh, what a boy he was! such a boy! His mother, Feklista, how she loved him, Vasya! And it was as if she sensed it, Feklista, that death from water would come to him. When Vasya would go with us, with the boys, in summer to swim in the river, -- she'd be all trembling. Other women don't care, they walk past with their tubs, waddling, but Feklista would set her tub on the ground and start calling him: "Come back, she'd say, come back, my light! oh, come back, my falcon!" And how he drowned, the Lord knows. He was playing on the bank, and his mother was right there, raking hay; suddenly she hears, as if someone is blowing bubbles in the water, -- looks, and only Vasya's little cap is floating on the water. So since then Feklista hasn't been in her right mind: she'll come and lie down on the spot where he drowned; lie down, my brothers, and start up a song, -- remember, Vasya always sang such a song, -- so she starts that one up, and cries herself, cries, bitterly complains to God... -- Here comes Pavlusha, -- Fedya said. Pavel approached the fire with the full pot in his hand. -- What is it, boys, -- he began after a pause, -- something's wrong. -- What? -- Kostya asked hurriedly. -- I heard Vasya's voice. Everyone shuddered. -- What are you saying, what? -- Kostya stammered. -- By God. Just as I bent down to the water, I suddenly hear someone calling me in Vasya's voice and as if from under the water: "Pavlusha, oh Pavlusha!" I listen; and he calls again: "Pavlusha, come here." I moved away. But I scooped the water. -- Oh Lord! oh Lord! -- the boys said, crossing themselves. -- It was the water-sprite calling you, Pavel, -- Fedya added... -- And we were just talking about him, about Vasya. -- Oh, it's a bad omen, -- Ilyusha said with deliberation. -- Well, it's nothing, never mind! -- Pavel said decisively and sat down again, -- you can't escape your fate. The boys quieted down. Evidently Pavel's words had made a deep impression on them. They began settling down by the fire, as if preparing to sleep. -- What's that? -- Kostya suddenly asked, raising his head. Pavel listened. -- Those are curlews flying, whistling. -- Where are they flying? -- There, where, they say, there's no winter. -- Is there really such a land? -- There is. -- Far away? -- Far, far away, beyond the warm seas. Kostya sighed and closed his eyes. More than three hours had passed since I joined the boys. The moon finally rose; I didn't notice it right away: it was so small and narrow. This moonless night seemed still as magnificent as before... But already many stars that had recently stood high in the sky had declined toward the dark edge of the earth; everything around had completely quieted, as everything usually quiets only toward morning: everything slept in deep, motionless, pre-dawn sleep. The air no longer smelled so strong, -- dampness seemed to spread through it again... Short are the summer nights!.. The boys' conversation died away along with the fires... Even the dogs were dozing; the horses, as far as I could make out, in the faintly glimmering, weakly flowing light of the stars, also lay with lowered heads... Sweet oblivion came over me; it turned into drowsiness. A fresh stream ran across my face. I opened my eyes: morning was beginning. The dawn wasn't blushing anywhere yet, but it had already whitened in the east. Everything became visible, though dimly visible, around. The pale gray sky was brightening, growing cold, turning blue; the stars now flickered with weak light, now disappeared; the earth grew damp, leaves became covered with dew, living sounds, voices began to be heard here and there, and a thin, early breeze was already wandering and fluttering over the earth. My body responded to it with a light, cheerful tremor. I quickly got up and approached the boys. They were all sleeping like the dead around the smoldering fire; only Pavel half-rose and looked intently at me. I nodded to him and went on my way along the smoking river. I hadn't gone two versts when streams were already pouring all around me across the wide wet meadow, and ahead, along the greening hills, from forest to forest, and behind along the long dusty road, along the sparkling, crimsoned bushes, and along the river, bashfully turning blue from under the thinning mist, -- there poured first scarlet, then red, golden streams of young, hot light... Everything stirred, awoke, began singing, rustling, talking. Everywhere large drops of dew blazed like radiant diamonds; toward me, pure and clear, as if also washed by the morning coolness, came the sounds of a bell, and suddenly past me, driven by the familiar boys, rushed the rested herd... I must add with regret that Pavel died that same year. He didn't drown: he was killed, falling from a horse. A pity, he was a splendid lad!
Biryuk
(From the cycle "A Sportsman's Sketches")