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Updated: June 17, 2025
Going shooting your honour, hey? the peasant suddenly inquired, turning his little, screwed-up eyes rapidly upon me, and at once dropping them again. 'Yes. 'And whereabouts, now? 'To the Charred Wood, said Kondrat. 'You 're going to the Charred Wood? mind you don't get into the fire. 'Eh?
When I was in the town, the clerk said: "Give us up," says he, "'Lexandritch; you just get out of the district, we'll let you have a passport, first-class one ..." but there, I'd pity on you Svyatoe fellows: you'd never get another thief like me. Kondrat laughed. 'You will have your joke, uncle, you will, upon my word, he said, and he shook the reins. The horses started off. 'Wo, said Efrem.
'Don't you know? answered Kondrat; 'his last cow died last night. He has no luck. What are you going to do?.... Yegor sat down on the box, without speaking, and we drove off. 'That man knows how to bear in silence, I thought. It happened in Petersburg, in the winter, on the first day of the carnival.
When Kondrat brought me to him, I found him in his back yard; squatting on his heels before the huge beast, he was cutting the fat out with a short, blunt knife. 'What a fine fellow you've knocked over there! I observed. Yegor raised his head and looked first at me, then at the dog, who had come with me.
The forest formed a continuous bluish ring all round the sky-line; there was reckoned to be two hundred acres, no more, of ploughed land round Svyatoe; but one had to go some five miles to find good places for game. The elder's son was called Kondrat. He was a flaxen-haired, rosy-cheeked young fellow, with a good-natured, peaceable expression of face, obliging and talkative. He drove the horses.
At evening the sunset had not yet begun to redden in the sky, but the shadows from the trees already lay long and motionless, and in the grass one could feel that chill that comes before the dew I lay down by the roadside near the cart in which Kondrat, without haste, was harnessing the horses after their feed, and I recalled my cheerless reveries of the day before.
'What are we looking at? said Yegor suddenly, behind my back. 'Let's go on. 'But where are we to go? asked Kondrat. 'Take the left, over the dry bog; we shall get through. We turned to the left, and got through, though it was sometimes difficult for both the horses and the cart. The whole day we wandered over the Charred Wood.
Kondrat had told the truth; it really was an overground fire, which only scorched the grass and passed on without finishing its work, leaving behind it a black and smoking, but not even smouldering, track.
The horses stopped. Kondrat did not like this prank. 'Enough of your nonsense, Alexandritch, he observed in an undertone: 'don't you see we're out with a gentleman? You mind; he'll be angry. 'Get on with you, sea-drake! What should he be angry about? He's a good-natured gentleman. You see, he'll give me something to drink. Hey, master, give a poor scoundrel a dram!
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