For three days they ate the mare’s flesh and drank beer in honour of the dead man. All the Tartars were at home. On the fourth day, about dinner time, Jilin saw that they were preparing to go away somewhere. The horses were brought out, they got ready, and about ten of the Tartars, the red one among them, went away, Abdul remaining at home. There was a new moon and the nights were still dark. “To-night we must escape,” Jilin thought, and he unfolded his plan to Kostilin. But Kostilin was afraid. “How can we run away? We don’t know the way even.” “I know the way.” “We couldn’t get there in one night.” “If we can’t, we can hide in the wood. I’ve got some cakes here for us to eat. What’s the good of sitting here? If they send your ransom, well and good, but supposing they can’t raise the money? The Tartars are getting vicious because our people have killed one of their men. They will probably kill us.” Kostilin reflected. “Very well; let us go,” he said. V Jilin went down the hole and made it a little bigger so that Kostilin could crawl through, then they sat down to wait till all grew quiet in the village. When the Tartars had all retired to rest Jilin crawled under the wall and got outside. “Follow me,” he whispered to Kostilin. Kostilin crept into the hole, but his foot hit against a stone and made a clatter. The master had a speckled watch-dog--a vicious creature it was, called Ulashin. The dog growled and rushed forward, followed by other dogs. Jilin gave a low whistle and threw it a cake. Ulashin recognized him, wagged his tail and ceased his growling. The master heard the dog and called from the hut, “_Hait, hait_, Ulashin!” But Jilin stroked the dog by the ears and it did not move. It rubbed itself against Jilin’s legs and wagged its tail. They sat crouching round the corner. All grew quiet; only a sheep was heard to cough in a barn, and below, the water rippled over the stones. It was dark; the stars were high in the sky and the new moon looked red as it set behind the hill, horns upwards. A mist as white as milk lay over the valley. Jilin got up and turning to Kostilin said, “Let us come, brother.” They set off, but they had no sooner done so than the Mullah intoned from the roof “Allah Besmilla! Ilrachman!” That meant that the people would be going to the Mosque. They sat down again, crouching behind the wall. For a long time they sat there waiting till the people went past. All grew quiet again. “Now then; with God’s help we must get away,” Jilin said.