'What did you kill the bird for?' he began, looking me straight in the face. 'What for? Corncrake is game; one can eat it.' 'That was not what you killed it for, master, as though you were going to eat it! You killed it for amusement.' 'Well, you yourself, I suppose, eat geese or chickens?' 'Those birds are provided by God for man, but the corncrake is a wild bird of the woods: and not he alone; many they are, the wild things of the woods and the fields, and the wild things of the rivers and marshes and moors, flying on high or creeping below; and a sin it is to slay them: let them live their allotted life upon the earth. But for man another food has been provided; his food is other, and other his sustenance: bread, the good gift of God, and the water of heaven, and the tame beasts that have come down to us from our fathers of old.' I looked in astonishment at Kassyan. His words flowed freely; he did not hesitate for a word; he spoke with quiet inspiration and gentle dignity, sometimes closing his eyes. 'So is it sinful, then, to kill fish, according to you?' I asked. 'Fishes have cold blood,' he replied with conviction. 'The fish is a dumb creature; it knows neither fear nor rejoicing. The fish is a voiceless creature. The fish does not feel; the blood in it is not living.... Blood,' he continued, after a pause, 'blood is a holy thing! God's sun does not look upon blood; it is hidden away from the light ... it is a great sin to bring blood into the light of day; a great sin and horror.... Ah, a great sin!' He sighed, and his head drooped forward. I looked, I confess, in absolute amazement at the strange old man. His language did not sound like the language of a peasant; the common people do not speak like that, nor those who aim at fine speaking. His speech was meditative, grave, and curious.... I had never heard anything like it. 'Tell me, please, Kassyan,' I began, without taking my eyes off his slightly flushed face, 'what is your occupation?' He did not answer my question at once. His eyes strayed uneasily for an instant. 'I live as the Lord commands,' he brought out at last; 'and as for occupation--no, I have no occupation. I've never been very clever from a child: I work when I can: I'm not much of a workman--how should I be? I have no health; my hands are awkward. In the spring I catch nightingales.' 'You catch nightingales?... But didn't you tell me that we must not touch any of the wild things of the woods and the fields, and so on?'