"What does he mean by all this nonsense?" said Boolba to himself. "So, gentlemen, you see that we cannot begin war; knightly honour forbids it. But, according to my poor understanding, what I should say is this--let us send the young people in our boats; let them take a run on the coasts of Anatolia. What do you think of that, gentlemen?" "Let us all go!" cried the crowd on every side. "Every one of us is ready to die for our faith!" The Koschevoï was alarmed; he had not at all meant to have raised the whole Ssiecha; he thought it unfair to break the peace. "Let me, gentlemen, say a few words more." "Enough!" shouted the Zaporoghians; "thou wilt say nothing better!" "If such be your will, well you must have it. I am but the servant of your will. It is well known that the voice of the people is the voice of God. Nothing better can be settled than what the whole of the Ssiecha has settled. I consider only this. You know, gentlemen, that the Sultan will not fail to take his revenge for the pleasure that the lads will have. And in the meanwhile we should have kept ourselves in readiness; our forces should have been fresh, and we should have feared nobody--while now, during our absence, the Tartars may fall on the Ssiecha. Tartars are nothing but Turkish dogs; they do not fall on you face to face, and will not come into the house so long as the master is at home; but they may bite our heels from behind and painfully may they bite us. And, as we are now about this matter--to speak the truth, we have not enough boats, and the store of powder is not sufficient if all of us are to go. However, I am ready. I am happy to be the servant of your will." The cunning Ataman stopped. Groups began to confer together; the atamans of the koorens held council; and, as luckily few remained tipsy, all agreed to follow the prudent course.