“Yes, Daddy, but you see I have to buy a horse; and they say you can’t get one the other side of the river under fifty rubles, and mother has not yet sold our wine.” “Eh, we didn’t bother,” said the old man; “when Daddy Eróshka was your age he already stole herds of horses from the Nogáy folk and drove them across the Térek. Sometimes we’d give a fine horse for a quart of vodka or a cloak.” “Why so cheap?” asked Lukáshka. “You’re a fool, a fool, Mark,” said the old man contemptuously. “Why, that’s what one steals for, so as not to be stingy! As for you, I suppose you haven’t so much as seen how one drives off a herd of horses? Why don’t you speak?” “What’s one to say, Daddy?” replied Lukáshka. “It seems we are not the same sort of men as you were.” “You’re a fool, Mark, a fool! ‘Not the same sort of men!’” retorted the old man, mimicking the Cossack lad. “I was not that sort of Cossack at your age.” “How’s that?” asked Lukáshka. The old man shook his head contemptuously. “Daddy Eróshka was _simple;_ he did not grudge anything! That’s why I was _kunak_ with all Chéchnya. A _kunak_ would come to visit me and I’d make him drunk with vodka and make him happy and put him to sleep with me, and when I went to see him I’d take him a present—a dagger! That’s the way it is done, and not as you do nowadays: the only amusement lads have now is to crack seeds and spit out the shells!” the old man finished contemptuously, imitating the present-day Cossacks cracking seeds and spitting out the shells. “Yes, I know,” said Lukáshka; “that’s so!” “If you wish to be a fellow of the right sort, be a brave and not a peasant! Because even a peasant can buy a horse—pay the money and take the horse.” They were silent for a while. “Well, of course it’s dull both in the village and the cordon, Daddy: but there’s nowhere one can go for a bit of sport. All our fellows are so timid. Take Nazárka. The other day when we went to the Tartar village, Giréy Khan asked us to come to Nogáy to take some horses, but no one went, and how was I to go alone?” “And what of Daddy? Do you think I am quite dried up? ... No, I’m not dried up. Let me have a horse and I’ll be off to Nogáy at once.” “What’s the good of talking nonsense!” said Luke. “You’d better tell me what to do about Giréy Khan. He says, ‘Only bring horses to the Térek, and then even if you bring a whole stud I’ll find a place for them.’ You see he’s also a shaven-headed Tartar—how’s one to believe him?” “You may trust Giréy Khan, all his kin were good people. His father too was a faithful _kunak_. But listen to Daddy and I won’t teach you wrong: make him take an oath, then it will be all right. And if you go with him, have your pistol ready all the same, especially when it comes to dividing up the horses. I was nearly killed that way once by a Chéchen. I wanted ten rubles from him for a horse. Trusting is all right, but don’t go to sleep without a gun.” Lukáshka listened attentively to the old man.