Taras Bulba, and Other TalesGogol, Nikolai Vasilevich
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Taras Bulba, and Other Tales
Gogol, Nikolai Vasilevich
Russia -- Fiction; Short stories
“Father, what have you done? Was it you who killed him?” said Ostap,
coming up at this moment.
Taras nodded.
Ostap gazed intently at the dead man. He was sorry for his brother, and
said at once: “Let us give him honourable burial, father, that the foe
may not dishonour his body, nor the birds of prey rend it.”
“They will bury him without our help,” said Taras; “there will be plenty
of mourners and rejoicers for him.”
And he reflected for a couple of minutes, whether he should fling him to
the wolves for prey, or respect in him the bravery which every brave man
is bound to honour in another, no matter whom? Then he saw Golopuitenko
galloping towards them and crying: “Woe, hetman, the Lyakhs have been
reinforced, a fresh force has come to their rescue!” Golopuitenko had
not finished speaking when Vovtuzenko galloped up: “Woe, hetman! a fresh
force is bearing down upon us.”
Vovtuzenko had not finished speaking when Pisarenko rushed up without
his horse: “Where are you, father? The Cossacks are seeking for
you. Hetman Nevelitchkiy is killed, Zadorozhniy is killed, and
Tcherevitchenko: but the Cossacks stand their ground; they will not die
without looking in your eyes; they want you to gaze upon them once more
before the hour of death arrives.”
“To horse, Ostap!” said Taras, and hastened to find his Cossacks, to
look once more upon them, and let them behold their hetman once more
before the hour of death. But before they could emerge from the wood,
the enemy’s force had already surrounded it on all sides, and horsemen
armed with swords and spears appeared everywhere between the trees.
“Ostap, Ostap! don’t yield!” shouted Taras, and grasping his sword he
began to cut down all he encountered on every side. But six suddenly
sprang upon Ostap. They did it in an unpropitious hour: the head of one
flew off, another turned to flee, a spear pierced the ribs of a third;
a fourth, more bold, bent his head to escape the bullet, and the bullet
striking his horse’s breast, the maddened animal reared, fell back upon
the earth, and crushed his rider under him. “Well done, son! Well done,
Ostap!” cried Taras: “I am following you.” And he drove off those
who attacked him. Taras hewed and fought, dealing blows at one after
another, but still keeping his eye upon Ostap ahead. He saw that eight
more were falling upon his son. “Ostap, Ostap! don’t yield!” But they
had already overpowered Ostap; one had flung his lasso about his neck,
and they had bound him, and were carrying him away. “Hey, Ostap, Ostap!”
shouted Taras, forcing his way towards him, and cutting men down like
cabbages to right and left. “Hey, Ostap, Ostap!” But something at that
moment struck him like a heavy stone. All grew dim and confused before
his eyes. In one moment there flashed confusedly before him heads,
spears, smoke, the gleam of fire, tree-trunks, and leaves; and then he
sank heavily to the earth like a felled oak, and darkness covered his
eyes.
CHAPTER X
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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