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A small camp-fire is lazily burning down between them, throwing a red glow on their faces. There is perfect stillness. The only sounds are the scrape of the knife on the wood and the crackling of damp sticks in the fire. "Don't you go to sleep, Syoma . . ." says the young man. "I . . . I am not asleep . . ." stammers the goat-beard.
While he is busy among the bushes, breaking dry twigs, his companion puts his hand over his eyes and starts at every sound. Syoma brings an armful of wood and lays it on the fire.
"That's all right. . . . It would be dreadful to sit here alone, one would be frightened. You might tell me something, Syoma." "You are a queer fellow, Syomushka! Other people will laugh and tell a story and sing a song, but you there is no making you out. You sit like a scarecrow in the garden and roll your eyes at the fire.
The young man gets up, and goes with the cassock. A minute later the sound of their steps and their talk dies away. Syoma shuts his eyes and gently dozes. The fire begins to grow dim, and a big black shadow falls on the dead body.
You should have picked up some sense for yourself if the Lord has afflicted you and given you no understanding. You must make an effort, Syoma. . . . You should listen hard when anything good's being said, note it well, and keep thinking and thinking. . . . If there is any word you don't understand, you should make an effort and think over in your head in what meaning the word is used. Do you see?
"It's an owl at the little birds," says Syoma, gloomily. "Why, Syoma, it's time for the birds to fly to the warm countries!" "To be sure, it is time." "It is chilly at dawn now. It is co-old. The crane is a chilly creature, it is tender. Such cold is death to it. I am not a crane, but I am frozen. . . . Put some more wood on!" Syoma gets up and disappears in the dark undergrowth.
Why are you silent?" "He is a bit simple," says the young man. "You come with me, friend; I will give you five kopecks." "For five kopecks I might," says the young man, scratching his head, "but I was told not to. If Syoma here, our simpleton, will stay alone, I will take you. Syoma, will you stay here alone?" "I'll stay," the simpleton consents. "Well, that's all right, then. Come along!"
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