"Exactly; that will be cheaper in the end. Some years ago I drove to
Vietegra in a fine tarantass; no one would buy it from me. One fellow
offered me ten kopecks. Enraged at his impudence, I put up my carriage
in a yard to be kept for me; and every six months I received a bill
for rent. In ten years' time that tarantass had cost me thrice its
original price. In vain I begged the man to sell it; no buyer could be
found. I offered to give it him, out and out; he declined my gift. At
length I sent a man to fetch it home; but when my servant got to
Vietegra he could find neither keeper nor tarantass. He only learned
that in years gone by the yard was closed, and my tarantass sold with
the other traps."
A God-speed dinner is the happy means of lifting this cloud of trouble
from my mind. "The man," says our helpful consul, "thinks he will
never see his tarantass again. Now, take my servant, Dimitri, with
you; he is a clever fellow, not afraid of wolves and runaways; he may
be trusted to bring it safely back."
"If Dimitri goes with you," adds a friendly merchant, "I will lend you
my tarantass; it is strong and roomy; big enough for two."
"You will!" A grip of hands, a flutter of thanks, and the thing is
done.
"Why, now," cries my host, "you will travel like a Tsar."
This private tarantass is brought round to the gates; an empty shell,
into which they toss our luggage; first the hard pieces--hat-box,
gun-case, trunk; then piles of hay to fill up chinks and holes, and
wisps of straw to bind the mass; on all of which they lay your
bedding, coats and skins. A woodman's axe, a coil of rope, a ball of
string, a bag of nails, a pot of grease, a basket of bread and wine, a
joint of roast beef, a tea-pot, and a case of cigars are afterwards
coaxed into nooks and crannies of the shell.
Starting at dusk, so as to reach the ferry, at which you are to cross
the river by day-break, we plash the mud and grind the planks of
Archangel beneath our hoofs. "Good-bye! Look out for wolves! Take care
of brigands! Good-bye, good-bye!" shout a dozen voices; and then that
friendly and frozen city is left behind.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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