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In fact, Lukashka, stooping, as with big strides he passed under the windows, ran out through the yard and towards Yamka's house unseen by anyone but Olenin. After drinking two bowls of chikhir he and Nazarka rode away to the outpost. The night was warm, dark, and calm. They rode in silence, only the footfall of their horses was heard.
A little later Ustenka entered and solemnly invited her visitors to come in: announcing that all was ready. When they came into the room they saw that everything was really ready. Ustenka was rearranging the cushions along the wall. On the table, which was covered by a disproportionately small cloth, was a decanter of chikhir and some dried fish. The room smelt of dough and grapes.
The Cossacks had dismounted, and filling a wooden bowl with chikhir from a little cask which they had brought with them, they passed the bowl round to one another and drank to the success of their expedition. Among them was a smartly dressed young cornet, who happened to be in the village and who took command of the group of nine Cossacks who had joined for the expedition.
'We'll have a drop of CHIKHIR. 'I might as well, said the old man, 'but take the pheasants. The old man's face showed that he liked the cadet. He had seen at once that he could get free drinks from him, and that therefore it would be all right to give him a brace of pheasants.
Now could I turn Cossack like Lukashka, and steal horses, get drunk on chikhir, sing rollicking songs, kill people, and when drunk climb in at her window for the night without a thought of who and what I am, it would be different: then we might understand one another and I might be happy.
This is something unexpected, undreamt of. Olenin was as happy as a boy of twelve. 'Tie it up here. It's a good horse. I bought it in Groznoe; it gallops splendidly! Vanyusha, bring us some chikhir. Come into the hut. The wine was brought. Lukashka sat down and took the wine-bowl. 'God willing I'll find a way to repay you, he said, finishing his wine. 'How are you called? 'Dmitri Andreich.
'Du tay voulay vou? asked Vanyusha, grinning. 'You're not one of us your gabble is not like our speech, you devil! the old man shouted at Vanyusha, showing the stumps of his teeth. 'A first offence must be forgiven, said Olenin playfully, drawing on his high boots. 'The first offence shall be forgiven, answered Eroshka, 'but if you oversleep another time you'll be fined a pail of chikhir.
"How d'you do. Mother? How is it that you have not gone out yet?" shouted Lukashka, holding his gun in place as he mounted the steps of the porch. His old mother opened the door. "Dear me! I never expected, never thought, you'd come," said the old woman. "Why, Kirka said you wouldn't be here." "Go and bring some chikhir, Mother. Nazarka is coming here and we will celebrate the feast day."
Just as every cadet or officer when in a fort regularly drinks porter, plays cards, and discusses the rewards given for taking part in the expeditions, so in the Cossack villages he regularly drinks chikhir with his hosts, treats the girls to sweet-meats and honey, dangles after the Cossack women, and falls in love, and occasionally marries there.
He brought with him a penetrating but not unpleasant smell of CHIKHIR wine, vodka, gunpowder, and congealed blood. Daddy Eroshka bowed down before the icons, smoothed his beard, and approaching Olenin held out his thick brown hand. 'Koshkildy, said he; That is Tartar for "Good-day" "Peace be unto you," it means in their tongue. 'Koshkildy, I know, answered Olenin, shaking hands.
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