Chapter 21

Suddenly it was as though the sun had shone into his soul. He
heard Russian being spoken, and also heard the rapid smooth flow
of the Terek, and a few steps farther in front of him saw the
brown moving surface of the river, with the dim-coloured wet sand
of its banks and shallows, the distant steppe, the cordon watch-
tower outlined above the water, a saddled and hobbled horse among
the brambles, and then the mountains opening out before him. The
red sun appeared for an instant from under a cloud and its last
rays glittered brightly along the river over the reeds, on the
watch-tower, and on a group of Cossacks, among whom Lukashka's
vigorous figure attracted Olenin's involuntary attention.

Olenin felt that he was again, without any apparent cause,
perfectly happy. He had come upon the Nizhni-Prototsk post on the
Terek, opposite a pro-Russian Tartar village on the other side of
the river. He accosted the Cossacks, but not finding as yet any
excuse for doing anyone a kindness, he entered the hut; nor in the
hut did he find any such opportunity. The Cossacks received him
coldly. On entering the mud hut he lit a cigarette. The Cossacks
paid little attention to him, first because he was smoking a
cigarette, and secondly because they had something else to divert
them that evening. Some hostile Chechens, relatives of the abrek
who had been killed, had come from the hills with a scout to
ransom the body; and the Cossacks were waiting for their
Commanding Officer's arrival from the village. The dead man's
brother, tall and well shaped with a short cropped beard which was
dyed red, despite his very tattered coat and cap was calm and
majestic as a king. His face was very like that of the dead abrek.
He did not deign to look at anyone, and never once glanced at the
dead body, but sitting on his heels in the shade he spat as he
smoked his short pipe, and occasionally uttered some few guttural
sounds of command, which were respectfully listened to by his
companion. He was evidently a brave who had met Russians more than
once before in quite other circumstances, and nothing about them
could astonish or even interest him. Olenin was about to approach
the dead body and had begun to look at it when the brother,
looking up at him from under his brows with calm contempt, said
something sharply and angrily. The scout hastened to cover the
dead man's face with his coat. Olenin was struck by the dignified
and stem expression of the brave's face. He began to speak to him,
asking from what village he came, but the Chechen, scarcely giving
him a glance, spat contemptuously and turned away. Olenin was so
surprised at the Chechen not being interested in him that he could
only put it down to the man's stupidity or