"Do you understand the duties of a pastuch?" the starost inquired. The man laughed scornfully. "You give me a pastuch's pipe, starost, and I'll show you what I can do! I can blow the pipe so that not only the cows of my own village follow me home, but the cattle from the next village as well! Why, all the _liéshuie_ (wood-spirits) come flying up from miles around when I play, and settle on the trees like _riabchiks_ (tree partridges) to listen! Wolves come and fawn at my feet! You won't find a pastuch like me in all Russia!" The fact is, the stranger was exceedingly anxious to obtain the situation of pastuch; it was just the sort of loafing work to suit him; hence his eloquence. Now, when the patron of a situation is no less anxious to give away the office at his disposal than the candidate is to obtain it, there is not much need to waste words over the appointment; accordingly, Radion Vasilitch was speedily engaged as the village pastuch, at a salary of four roubles per month, and entered at once upon his duties. The appointment was made none too soon; for the very next day was that on which the cattle were annually allowed to make their first excursion beyond their own yard gates. Radion appeared in full pastuch costume at earliest morn, and blew his long horn or pipe in a manner which proved that he was no novice in the accomplishment. Out came the cows into the street, a noisy, happy herd, lowing and gambolling in exuberant but ungainly joy, for they were very naturally delighted to learn that their long captivity was over. Each house contributed its one or two or four cows to the herd as Radion passed trumpeting down the street, and at last the starost's house was reached. "Starost!" shouted Radion, "aren't you going to do what is necessary for the safety of the herd before I take them into the woods?" "What do you mean?" asked the chief Soul, who was standing in _déshabille_ at his own yard gate, watching the pastuch and his charge. "Why, about the wood-goblins. It is better to propitiate them--we always did so on the first day of the season at Kirilova!" "This is not Kirilova, my brother," said the starost, "but Kushlefka. We have no wood-spirits here. A good pastuch is better than charms and ceremonies."