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Updated: September 25, 2025
As he suddenly asked himself this, a confused, painful sense of awe seemed to crush him to the ground. Persistently he gazed at a brilliant star in the tail of the Great Bear and recollected how Kousma the peasant in the melon-field had called this majestic constellation a "wheelbarrow." He felt annoyed, in a way, that such an irrelevant thought should have crossed his mind.
"Why, it's Sanine," said Riasantzeff, in astonishment. "How did he get here?" They approached the fire. Grey-bearded Kousma, seated beside it, looked up, and nodded to welcome them. "Any luck?" he asked, in his deep bass voice, through a drooping moustache. "Just a bit," replied Riasantzeff. Sanine, sitting on a huge pumpkin, also raised his head and smiled at them.
"What does he always come here for?" thought Yourii, surprised and curious. Seated by the fire, Kousma was telling a story, laughing and gesticulating meanwhile. Sanine was laughing, too. The fire burned with a slender flame, as that of a taper, the light being rosy, not red as at night-time, while overhead, in the blue dome of heaven, the first stars glittered.
Kousma, it's time to boil the potatoes! He! He!" Riasantzeff picked up the old fellow's flint-lock, and laughingly showed it to Yourii. It was a rusty old barrel-loader, very heavy, with wire wound round it. "I say," said he, "what sort of a gun do you call this? Aren't you afraid to shoot with it?" "He! He! I nearly shot myself with it once!
The others, Kousma, Sanine, and Riasantzeff, chatted frankly and simply to them about this or that, never troubling to choose some special theme for talk. "Well, how's the land?" he asked, when there was a short pause in the conversation, though he felt that the question sounded forced and out of place. Kousma looked up, and answered: "We must wait, just wait a while, and see."
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