Here a shaggy-eared pony, all skin and bone, was seen approaching us at
a foot's pace. Trembling, and drooping its head, it scanned us, as it
drew level, with a round black eye, and snorted. Upon that, its rider
pushed back a ragged fur cap, glanced warily in our direction, and
again sank his head.
"The folk of these parts are ugly to look at," softly commented the
woman from Orlov.
Then I departed in quest of water. After I had washed my face and hands
I filled the kettle from a stream bright and lively as quicksilver (a
stream presenting, as the autumn leaves tossed in the eddies which went
leaping and singing over the stones, a truly enchanting spectacle),
and, returning, and peeping through the bushes, perceived the woman to
be crawling on hands and knees over the stones, and anxiously peering
about, as though in search of something.
"What is it?" I inquired, and thereupon, turning grey in the face with
confusion she hastened to conceal some article under her person,
although I had already guessed the nature of the article.
"Give it to me," was my only remark. "I will go and bury it."
"How so? For, as a matter of fact, it ought to be buried under the
floor in front of some stove."
"Are we to build a stove HERE? Build it in five minutes?" I retorted.
"Ah, I was jesting. But really, I would rather not have it buried here,
lest some wild beast should come and devour it... Yet it ought to be
committed only to the earth."
That said, she, with averted eyes, handed me a moist and heavy bundle;
and as she did so she said under her breath, with an air of confusion:
"I beg of you for Christ's sake to bury it as well, as deeply, as you
can. Out of pity for my son do as I bid you."
I did as she had requested; and, just as the task had been completed, I
perceived her returning from the margin of the sea with unsteady gait,
and an arm stretched out before her, and a petticoat soaked to the
middle with the sea water. Yet all her face was alight with inward
fire, and as I helped her to regain the spot where I had prepared some
sticks I could not help reflecting with some astonishment:
"How strong indeed she is!"
Next, as we drank a mixture of tea and honey, she inquired:
"Have you now ceased to be a student?"
"Yes."
"And why so? Through too much drink?"
"Even so, good mother."
"Dear me! Well, your face is familiar to me. Yes, I remember that I
noticed you in Sukhum when once you were arguing with the barraque
superintendent over the question of rations. As I did so the thought
occurred to me: 'Surely that bold young fellow must have gone and spent
his means on drink? Yes, that is how it must be.'"
Then, as from her swollen lips she licked a drop of honey, she again
bent her blue eyes in the direction of the bush under which the
slumbering, newly-arrived Orlovian was couched.
"How will he live?" thoughtfully she said with a sigh--then added:
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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