Nobody in the town knew that one-half of the Zaporoghians had gone in pursuit of the Tartars. The sentries on the tower of the town hall had indeed noticed that part of the waggons had been drawn behind the forest, but they thought that the Cossacks had prepared an ambuscade: the French engineer was of the same opinion. Meanwhile, the words of the Ivoschevoï proved true, and victuals began to be scarce in the town. As was usual in old times, they had not calculated the number of troops and the allowance to be made to them. A sally was tried, but one-half of the daring fellows were killed on the spot by the Cossacks, and the other was driven back into the town with no result. The Jews however, profited by this sally, and ferreted out everything, whither and wherefore the Zaporoghians were gone, and with which of the chiefs, also which of the koorens, in what number, and how many were left behind, and what they intended to do; in a word, some minutes had hardly elapsed when everything was known in the town. The colonels took courage, and prepared to give battle. Tarass perceived this by the movement and noise in the town, and, accordingly, busily occupied himself in forming the troops and giving orders; he divided the koorens into three encampments, which he surrounded with waggons by way of fortification, a mode of entrenchment in which the Zaporoghians were never conquered. He sent two koorens into ambuscade, ordered sharp stakes, broken weapons, and stumps of spears to be scattered over part of the field, intending to drive the enemy's cavalry to that locality when the opportunity should present itself. And when all his orders had been executed, he harangued the Cossacks, not in order to encourage them, or to heighten their spirits, for he knew them to be spirited enough, but simply because he wished to say what weighed on his own heart.