Groaning, the forest was slowly giving up its life as the trees fell: though these were like brave men in a battle, who, packed close and propped up one by another, fall little by little, giving way only to resistless might, and without a cry topple over into the jaws of death by whole ranks at a time. Dull moans rose up; the earth vibrated continuously under the impact of felled trees; the axes went on smiting, the saws sawed without ceasing, while the whistling of the boughs, rushing athwart the air, pierced the ears like dying gasps. So the work continued, hour after hour, with fresh booty won from the wood; the glade was all strewn with trunks, and the ax and saw were successful. A few magpies perched and screamed upon the young trees spared for seedlings; a flock of crows would sometimes fly with harsh croaks over the field of death. Or else a roebuck would peer out from some thicket and, looking forth, gaze with bright eyes at the plumes of smoke wafted upwards from the fires in the clearing and at the down-crashing trees; but when it saw men there, it fled with a bleating cry. The men hewed and sawed, like wolves that have cornered a flock of sheep, which—huddled close, stupefied with fear, and bleating pitifully—await the moment when the throat of the last of them shall be torn out. It was only after their breakfast, when the sun had risen so high that the hoarfrost began to melt, and a few shafts of golden light penetrated the woodlands—only then did a far-off hubbub come to their ears. “There are people coming this way, and in numbers,” someone said, putting his ear to a trunk. The sound came nearer and nearer. Soon they could make out shouts and the dull trampling of many feet. About the space of an Ave Maria later, a sledge appeared on the way that led from the village. It entered the clearing at once. Boryna was standing up in it; and in his rear—on horseback, on foot, and in wagons—a great crowd of men, women and youngsters came dashing forward with a cry, to attack the wood-cutters. Leaping down, Boryna ran forward at their head; all the others pressed close behind him, armed with their various weapons—brandishing pitchforks, flashing scythes, wielding flails with brawny arms. Some had only a branch to fight with, and the women less still—only their nails and their invectives!—And down they all swooped upon the affrighted wood-cutters. “Away from the forest! ’Tis ours: ye shall not fell it!” they shouted all at the same time, and no man could make out what they wanted. But Boryna came up to the men, and called out in a voice like a trumpet: “Men of Modlitsa, of Rzepki, and whencesoever ye come from: listen!” There was a pause, and then he cried out: “Take your belongings and tools, and go hence, and God be with you!—We forbid you to cut down our forest; and he that shall not obey will find us all ready to make him!”