They all sprang up frightened, and began to busy themselves. The old man looked on with pleasure while the work was silently shared in the order established by centuries. The women put the tea-kettle and cauldron on the fire, and carried the bedding out of doors; the men, after examining their thongs and arms, prepared to go into the wood to call the herd together. The bustle stopped when the tea was ready. They all sat down gravely round a plank serving as table, but as the host was silent, no one dared to talk, although all, not excepting old Nioren, were excited. The young women and girls looked at their father in unspeakable fear. Miore was sad and angry, but 'Sparkling Ice' regarded the old man with respect, not unmixed with a certain degree of curiosity. After drinking his tea, Seltichan ate something, and lighted his pipe. Then he said to his youngest son: 'Go out, boy, and call the people.' Miore did not stir from his seat. 'Do you hear?' Not until the command had been repeated threateningly did the lad rise and begin to buckle on his things. But, instead of going, he suddenly threw himself at his father's feet. 'Are you determined? Are you determined? Oh, father do not leave us! The family will never agree to it. I was talking to the young men yesterday, and they said: "Rather than that, let all our reindeer die, and we will live by industry." But if they do decide on that in the end,--let the fat Kniaź be killed!' 'You are foolish, my boy,' the old man said with a smile. 'You do not know yet what I shall do. I wish to see the people.--Go, I tell you!' 'Oh, my lord, why do you deceive us with hope?' 'Don't talk nonsense.--I have already told you--' 'They will never let us off; it would be better to escape secretly.' 'I have already told you--' the old man repeated obstinately. 'Oh Father, let us escape, let us escape!' they all begged, stretching out their hands towards him. But the old man thrust away Miore, the most impetuous of them all, with a kick in the chest, and cried: 'Cursed birds of ill-omen, cease from breaking my heart!' 'I would like to know,' said 'Sparkling Ice,' who had been gloomy and silent hitherto, 'why Miore does not obey when our father commands him?' The lad, who was lying as he had fallen, rose, and left the tent in silence. * * * * * Once more the people, from small to great, were assembled at the column in the valley. The armed men were dressed in their best attire,--various kinds of fur, which hung in long fringes. The sun shone on their ornaments as they took their seats in small bands according to families. They amused themselves, wrestled, and in no way betrayed the reason for coming there.