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Updated: May 26, 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.
So distressful was this sense of solitude, that as he crossed the melon-field where hundreds of melons were growing in the gloom, to him they seemed like human skulls that Jay strewn upon the ground. Summer now came on, abounding in light and warmth. Between the luminous blue heaven and the sultry earth there floated a tremulous veil of golden haze.
The melon-field was immersed in gloom, and only the foremost rows of melons shimmered white in the firelight, casting long shadows. The horse stood, snorting, beside the hut, where a bright little fire of dried steppe-grass burnt and crackled. They could hear men talking and women laughing, and one voice, mellow and cheery in tone, seemed familiar to Yourii.
Yourii, however, felt no desire to shoot, but he shouldered his gun and turned homeward, listening to sounds of crystalline clearness in the grey calm twilight. "How beautiful!" thought he. "All is beautiful; man alone is vile!" Far away he saw the little fire burning in the melon-field, and ere long by its light he recognized the faces of Kousma and Sanine.
This, perchance, is he who of late has lurked within the shadow of our backs to bear away our labour. Not to create this unworthy suspicion I freely came among you, for, as the Ancient Wisdom says: 'Do not adjust your sandals while passing through a melon-field, nor yet arrange your hat beneath an orange-tree."
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