Anthology of Russian literature from the earliest period to the present time, volume 1 (of 2) : $b From the tenth century to the close of the eighteenth centuryWiener, Leo
General
Anthology of Russian literature from the earliest period to the present time, volume 1 (of 2) : $b From the tenth century to the close of the eighteenth century
Wiener, Leo
Russia -- Literary collections; Russian literature -- Translations into English
The wind calmed down, and no more land was being
carried away, and we were saved; at daylight we rode out of the eddy
into the river, and continued our voyage. That eddy had carried part of
my life away; yet I endured it all, all the terrors, for the end of my
sufferings was not yet to be: I was preparing myself for greater woes,
and God gave me strength for them.
* * * * *
We reached the provincial town of the island where we were to reside.
We were told that the way to that island was by water, and that a
change would be made here: the officer of the guard was to return, and
we were to be turned over to an officer of the local garrison, with a
detachment of twenty-four soldiers. We stayed here a week, while they
were fixing the boat that was to take us there, and we were transferred
from hand to hand, like prisoners. It was such a pitiable sight that
even a heart of stone would be softened. At this departure, the officer
wept, and said: “Now you will suffer all kinds of insult. These are not
ordinary men: they will treat you like common people, and will show you
no indulgence.” We all wept, as if we were parting from a relative. We
had at least gotten used to him. However badly we were off, yet he had
known us in our fortune, and he felt ashamed to treat us harshly.
When they had fixed the boat, a new commander took us to it. It was
quite a procession. A crowd of soldiers followed us, as if we were
robbers. I walked with downcast eyes, and did not look around: there
was a great number of curious people along the road on which they led
us. We arrived at the boat. I was frightened when I saw it, for it was
quite different from the former one: out of disrespect to us, they gave
us a worthless one. The boat was in accordance with the designation
which we bore, and they did not care, if we were to perish the next
day: we were simply prisoners,--there was no other name for us. Oh,
what can there be worse than that appellation? The honour we received
was in conformity with it! The boards on the boat were all warped, and
you could see daylight through them; the moment a breeze began to blow,
it creaked. It was black with age and soot: labourers had been making
fires in it, and no one would have thought to travel in it. It had been
abandoned, and was intended for kindling wood. As they were in a hurry
with us, they did not dare keep us back long, and gave us the first
boat they could find. But maybe they had express orders to drown us.
God having willed otherwise, we arrived safely at the appointed place.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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