“I say, Daddy, have you any stone-break grass?” he asked after a pause. “No, I haven’t any, but I’ll teach you how to get it. You’re a good lad and won’t forget the old man.... Shall I tell you?” “Tell me, Daddy.” “You know a tortoise? She’s a devil, the tortoise is!” “Of course I know!” “Find her nest and fence it round so that she can’t get in. Well, she’ll come, go round it, and then will go off to find the stone-break grass and will bring some along and destroy the fence. Anyhow next morning come in good time, and where the fence is broken there you’ll find the stone-break grass lying. Take it wherever you like. No lock and no bar will be able to stop you.” “Have you tried it yourself, Daddy?” “As for trying, I have not tried it, but I was told of it by good people. I used only one charm: that was to repeat the Pilgrim rhyme when mounting my horse; and no one ever killed me!” “What is the Pilgrim rhyme, Daddy?” “What, don’t you know it? Oh, what people! You’re right to ask Daddy. Well, listen, and repeat after me: “Hail! Ye, living in Sion, This is your King, Our steeds we shall sit on, Sophonius is weeping. Zacharias is speaking, Father Pilgrim, Mankind ever loving.” “Kind ever loving,” the old man repeated. “Do you know it now? Try it.” Lukáshka laughed. “Come, Daddy, was it that that hindered their killing you? Maybe it just happened so!” “You’ve grown too clever! You learn it all, and say it. It will do you no harm. Well, suppose you have sung ‘Pilgrim’, it’s all right,” and the old man himself began laughing. “But just one thing, Luke, don’t you go to Nogáy!” “Why?” “Times have changed. You are not the same men. You’ve become rubbishy Cossacks! And see how many Russians have come down on us! You’d get to prison. Really, give it up! Just as if you could! Now Gírchik and I, we used...” And the old man was about to begin one of his endless tales, but Lukáshka glanced at the window and interrupted him. “It is quite light. Daddy. It’s time to be off. Look us up some day.” “May Christ save you! I’ll go to the officer; I promised to take him out shooting. He seems a good fellow.” Chapter XVII From Eróshka’s hut Lukáshka went home. As he returned, the dewy mists were rising from the ground and enveloped the village. In various places the cattle, though out of sight, could be heard beginning to stir. The cocks called to one another with increasing frequency and insistence. The air was becoming more transparent, and the villagers were getting up. Not till he was close to it could Lukáshka discern the fence of his yard, all wet with dew, the porch of the hut, and the open shed. From the misty yard he heard the sound of an axe chopping wood. Lukáshka entered the hut. His mother was up, and stood at the oven throwing wood into it. His little sister was still lying in bed asleep. “Well, Lukáshka, had enough holiday-making?” asked his mother softly. “Where did you spend the night?”