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Along the San the troops just south of Ewarts delivered a fierce attack and drove the Archduke Ferdinand back to Tarnobrzeg on the Vistula. Ivanoff next drew as many reenforcements from that flank to strengthen his center as was compatible with safety. What had happened meanwhile on Ivanoff's extreme left in eastern Galicia and the Bukowina has already been stated.
"It's not the same thing at all," was Ivanoff's stubborn retort, and his eyes flashed angrily. "It's the act of an idiot, that's what it is!" His strange hatred of Soloveitchik made a most unpleasant impression upon the others. Sina Karsavina, as she got up to go, whispered to Yourii, "I am going. He is simply detestable." Yourii nodded. "Utterly brutal," he murmured.
Maybe it was out of this cleavage that Pouzikoff, Kanine and the others who have sought to infect the whole world with horror and crime made their appearance from the land of the inferno. One of Lieutenant Ivanoff's soldiers, who was always praying and pale, called them all "the servants of Satan." Our trip from Tisingol to Uliassutai in the company of these criminals was very unpleasant.
If only the ponderous advance of Von Mackensen could have been arrested, Brussilov would have had little difficulty in sweeping Von Linsingen back to the Carpathian barrier. A somewhat similar condition existed in the north, where the Austrians were at the mercy of Ivanoff's strong right wing.
"Oh! it's Uncle Peter Ilitsch!" exclaimed Ivanoff gleefully. "Yes! that's he!" replied the figure, in a deep, resonant voice. Yourii remembered that Ivanoff's uncle was an old, drunken church chorister. He had a grey moustache like one of the soldiers at the time of Nicholas the First, and his shabby black coat had a most unpleasant smell. "Boum! Boum!"
Ivanoff's lodging was more like an old lumber-room than a place for human habitation, being very dusty and untidy. But when his host had lighted the lamp, Yourii perceived that the walls were covered with engravings of pictures by Vasnetzoff, and that what had seemed rubbish were books piled up in heaps.
"What nonsense!" exclaimed Novikoff testily. "I've got to see a patient..." "Who is quite able to die without your help," said Ivanoff. "For that matter, we can polish off the vodka without your help, either." "Suppose I get drunk?" thought Novikoff. "All right! I'll come," he said. As they went away, Yourii could hear at a distance Ivanoff's gruff bass voice and Sanine's careless, merry laugh.
Von Deitz burst into a fit of hoarse laughter that sounded like the barking of a dog. He had not understood Ivanoff's joke, but felt sorry not to have made it himself. Suddenly Novikoff held out his hand to him. "What? Are you off?" asked Von Deitz in surprise. Novikoff made no reply. "Where are you going?" asked Sanine. Still Novikoff was silent.
Sounds floated hither and thither, as if borne on rapid wings. Sanine, hatless, and wearing his blue shirt that at the shoulders was slightly faded, sauntered along the dusty road and turned down the little grass-grown side-street leading to Ivanoff's lodging. At the window, making cigarettes, sat Ivanoff, broad-shouldered and sedate, with his long, straw-coloured hair carefully brushed back.
On March 4, 1916, a detachment of Russian scouts belonging to General Ivanoff's army captured and occupied an advanced Austrian trench, close to the bridgehead of Michaleze, to the northeast of the town of Uscieszko on the Dniester River. Austrian forces immediately attempted to regain this position, launching three separate attacks against it. But the Russian troops held on to their slight gain.
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