Chapter 9 - Page 2

them.'

'And so you got him!' said the old man. 'He is far away now, my
lad! ...' And again he shook his head sadly.

Just then the sound reached them of breaking bushes and the loud
voices of Cossacks approaching along the bank on horseback and on
foot. 'Are you bringing the skiff?' shouted Lukashka.

'You're a trump, Luke! Lug it to the bank!' shouted one of the
Cossacks.

Without waiting for the skiff Lukashka began to undress, keeping
an eye all the while on his prey.

'Wait a bit, Nazarka is bringing the skiff,' shouted the corporal.

'You fool! Maybe he is alive and only pretending! Take your dagger
with you!' shouted another Cossack.

'Get along,' cried Luke, pulling off his trousers. He quickly
undressed and, crossing himself, jumped, plunging with a splash
into the river. Then with long strokes of his white arms, lifting
his back high out of the water and breathing deeply, he swam
across the current of the Terek towards the shallows. A crowd of
Cossacks stood on the bank talking loudly. Three horsemen rode off
to patrol. The skiff appeared round a bend. Lukashka stood up on
the sandbank, leaned over the body, and gave it a couple of
shakes.

'Quite dead!' he shouted in a shrill voice.

The Chechen had been shot in the head. He had on a pair of blue
trousers, a shirt, and a Circassian coat, and a gun and dagger
were tied to his back. Above all these a large branch was tied,
and it was this which at first had misled Lukashka.

'What a carp you've landed!' cried one of the Cossacks who had
assembled in a circle, as the body, lifted out of the skiff, was
laid on the bank, pressing down the grass.

'How yellow he is!' said another.

'Where have our fellows gone to search? I expect the rest of them
are on the other bank. If this one had not been a scout he would
not have swum that way. Why else should he swim alone?' said a
third.

'Must have been a smart one to offer himself before the others; a
regular brave!' said Lukashka mockingly, shivering as he wrung out
his clothes that had got wet on the bank.

'His beard is dyed and cropped.'

'And he has tied a bag with a coat in it to his back.'

'That would make it easier for him to swim,' said some one.

'I say, Lukashka,' said the corporal, who was holding the dagger
and gun taken from the dead man. 'Keep the dagger for yourself and
the coat too; but I'll give you three rubles for the gun. You see
it has a hole in it,' said he, blowing into the muzzle. 'I want it
just for a souvenir.'

Lukashka did not answer. Evidently this sort of begging vexed him
but he knew it could not be avoided.

'See, what a devil!' said he, frowning and