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Updated: May 9, 2025
Through the mouth of the defile one could reach the valley of the Sunzha, whence, since men were ther, building a railway to Petrovsk on the Caspian Sea, there kept issuing and breaking against the crags a dull rumble of explosions, of iron rasped against stone, of whistles of works locomotives, and of animated human voices.
Upon this the man with the Cossack forelock took a slice of bread which the ex-soldier cut from a loaf, with an onion and a pinch of salt. Then, as he regarded us with a pair of good-humoured eyes, he said, balancing his food on the palms of his hands: "There is a spot on the Sunzha, near here, where those fellows have a colony of their own. Yes, I myself have visited it.
And as it does so it feels crushed, as in a vice, beneath the burden of great and inexorable sorrow with which all life is dowered. In a mountain defile near a little tributary of the Sunzha, there was being built a workman's barraque a low, long edifice which reminded one of a large coffin lid.
To the right also of the defile lay the winding valley of the Sunzha, with more hills; and above those hills hung the blue sky, and in their flanks were clefts which, full of grey mist, kept emitting a ceaseless din of labour, a sound of dull explosions, as a great puissant force attained release.
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