![]() Taras Bulba ![]() The only difference as regarded the students was that, instead of sitting
under the pointer and listening to the worn-out doctrines of a teacher, they
practised racing with five thousand horses; instead of the field where they
had played ball, they had the boundless borderlands, where at the sight of
them the Tatar showed his keen face and the Turk frowned grimly from under
his green turban. The difference was that, instead of being forced to the
companionship of school, they themselves had deserted their fathers and
mothers and fled from their homes; that here were those about whose neck a
rope had already been wound, and who, instead of pale death, had seen life,
and life in all its intensity; those who, from generous habits, could never
keep a coin in their pockets; those who had thitherto regarded a ducat as
wealth, and whose pockets, thanks to the Jew revenue-farmers, could have
been turned wrong side out without any danger of anything falling from them.
Here were students who could not endure the academic rod, and had not
carried away a single letter from the schools; but with them were also some
who knew about Horace, Cicero, and the Roman Republic. There were many
leaders who afterwards distinguished themselves in the king's armies; and
there were numerous clever partisans who cherished a magnanimous conviction
that it was of no consequence where they fought, so long as they did fight,
since it was a disgrace to an honourable man to live without fighting. There
were many who had come to the Sich for the sake of being able to say
afterwards that they had been there and were therefore hardened warriors.
But who was not there? This strange republic was a necessary outgrowth of
the epoch. Lovers of a warlike life, of golden beakers and rich brocades, of
ducats and gold pieces, could always find employment there. The lovers of
women alone could find naught, for no woman dared show herself even in the
suburbs of the Sich.
It seemed exceedingly strange to Ostap and Andríi that, although a crowd
of people had come to the Sich with them, not a soul inquired, "Whence come
these men? who are they? and what are their names?" They had come thither as
though returning to a home whence they had departed only an hour before. The
new-comer merely presented himself to the Koschevoi, or head chief of the
Sich, who generally said, "Welcome! Do you believe in Christ?"----"I do,"
replied the new-comer. "And do you believe in the Holy Trinity?"----"I
do."----"And do you go to church?"----"I do." "Now cross yourself." The
new-comer crossed himself. "Very good," replied the Koschevoi; "enter the
kurén where you have most acquaintances." This concluded the ceremony. And
all the Sich prayed in one church, and were willing to defend it to their
last drop of blood, although they would not hearken to aught about fasting
or abstinence. Jews, Armenians, and Tatars, inspired by strong avarice, took
the liberty of living and trading in the suburbs; for the Zaporozhtzi never
cared for bargaining, and paid whatever money their hand chanced to grasp in
their pocket. Moreover, the lot of these gain-loving traders was pitiable in
the extreme. They resembled people settled at the foot of Vesuvius; for when
the Zaporozhtzi lacked money, these bold adventurers broke down their booths
and took everything gratis. The Sich consisted of over sixty kuréns, each
of which greatly resembled a separate independent republic, but still more a
school or seminary of children, always ready for anything. No one had any
occupation; no one retained anything for himself; everything was in the
hands of the hetman of the kurén, who, on that account, generally bore the
title of "father." In his hands were deposited the money, clothes, all the
provisions, oatmeal, grain, even the firewood. They gave him money to take
care of. Quarrels amongst the inhabitants of the kurén were not unfrequent;
and in such cases they proceeded at once to blows. The inhabitants of the
kurén swarmed into the square, and smote each other with their fists, until
one side had finally gained the upper hand, when the revelry began. Such was
the Sich, which had such an attraction for young men.
Ostap and Andríi flung themselves into this sea of dissipation with all
the ardour of youth, forgot in a trice their father's house, the seminary,
and all which had hitherto exercised their minds, and gave themselves wholly
up to their new life. Everything interested them--the jovial habits of the
Sich, and its chaotic morals and laws, which even seemed to them too strict
for such a free republic. If a Kozak stole the smallest trifle, it was
considered a disgrace to the whole Kozak community. He was bound to the
pillar of shame, and a club was laid beside him, with which each passer-by
was bound to deal him a blow until in this manner he was beaten to death. He
who did not pay his debts was chained to a cannon, until some one of his
comrades should decide to ransom him by paying his debts for him. But what
made the deepest impression on Andríi was the terrible punishment decreed
for murder. A hole was dug in his presence, the murderer was lowered alive
into it, and over him was placed a coffin containing the body of the man he
had killed, after which the earth was thrown upon both. Long afterwards the
fearful ceremony of this horrible execution haunted his mind, and the man
who had been buried alive appeared to him with his terrible coffin. Both the young Kozaks soon took a good standing among their fellows.
They often sallied out upon the steppe with comrades from their kurén, and
sometimes too with the whole kurén or with neighbouring kuréns, to shoot the
innumerable steppe-birds of every sort, deer, and goats. Or they went out
upon the lakes, the river, and its tributaries allotted to each kurén, to
throw their nets and draw out rich prey for the enjoyment of the whole
kurén. Although unversed in any trade exercised by a Kozak, they were soon
remarked among the other youths for their obstinate bravery and daring in
everything. Skilfully and accurately they fired at the mark, and swam the
Dnieper against the current--a deed for which the novice was triumphantly
received into the circle of Kozaks.
But old Taras was planning a different sphere of activity for them. Such
an idle life was not to his mind; he wanted active employment. He reflected
incessantly how to stir up the Sich to some bold enterprise, wherein a man
could revel as became a warrior. At length he went one day to the Koschevoi,
and said plainly:----
"Well, Koschevoi, it is time for the Zaporozhtzi to set out."
"There is nowhere for them to go," replied the Koschevoi, removing his
short pipe from his mouth and spitting to one side.
"What do you mean by nowhere? We can go to Turkey or Tatary."
"Impossible to go either to Turkey or Tatary," replied the Koschevoi,
putting his pipe coolly into his mouth again.
"Why impossible?"
"It is so; we have promised the Sultan peace."
"But he is a Muslim; and God and the Holy Scriptures command us to
slay Muslims."
"We have no right. If we had not sworn by our faith, it might be done;
but now it is impossible."
"How is it impossible? How can you say that we have no right? Here are my
two sons, both young men. Neither has been to war; and you say that we have
no right, and that there is no need for the Zaporozhtzi to set out on an
expedition."
"Well, it is not fitting."
"Then it must be fitting that Kozak strength should be wasted in vain,
that a man should disappear like a dog without having done a single good
deed, that he should be of no use to his country or to Christianity! Why,
then, do we live? What the deuce do we live for? just tell me that. You are
a sensible man, you were not chosen as Koschevoi without reason: so just
tell me what we live for?"
The Koschevoi made no reply to this question. He was an obstinate
Kozak. He was silent for a while, and then said, "Anyway, there will not
be war."
"There will not be war?" Taras asked again.
"No."
"Then it is no use thinking about it?"
"It is not to be thought of."
"Wait, you devil's limb!" said Taras to himself; "you shall learn to know
me!" and he at once resolved to have his revenge on the Koschevoi.
Having made an agreement with several others, he gave them liquor; and
the drunken Kozaks staggered into the square, where on a post hung the
kettledrums which were generally beaten to assemble the people. Not finding
the sticks, which were kept by the drummer, they seized a piece of wood and
began to beat. The first to respond to the drum-beat was the drummer, a tall
man with but one eye, but a frightfully sleepy one for all that. "Who dares to beat the drum?" he shouted.
"Hold your tongue! take your sticks, and beat when you are ordered!"
replied the drunken men.
The drummer at once took from his pocket the sticks which he had brought
with him, well knowing the result of such proceedings. The drum rattled, and
soon black swarms of Kozaks began to collect like bees in the square. All
formed in a ring; and at length, after the third summons, the chiefs began
to arrive--the Koschevoi with staff in hand, the symbol of his office; the
judge with the army-seal; the secretary with his ink-bottle; and the osaul
with his staff. The Koschevoi and the chiefs took off their caps and bowed
on all sides to the Kozaks, who stood proudly with their arms akimbo.
"What means this assemblage? what do you wish, gentles?" said the
Koschevoi. Shouts and exclamations interrupted his speech.
"Resign your staff! resign your staff this moment, you son of Satan! we
will have you no longer!" shouted some of the Kozaks in the crowd. Some of
the sober ones appeared to wish to oppose this, but both sober and drunken
fell to blows. The shouting and uproar became universal.
The Koschevoi attempted to speak; but knowing that the self-willed
multitude, if enraged, might beat him to death, as almost always happened in
such cases, he bowed very low, laid down his staff, and hid himself in the
crowd.
"Do you command us, gentles, to resign our insignia of office?" said the
judge, the secretary, and the osaul, as they prepared to give up the
ink-horn, army-seal, and staff, upon the spot.
"No, you are to remain!" was shouted from the crowd. "We only wanted to
drive out the Koschevoi because he is a woman, and we want a man for
Koschevoi."
"Whom do you now elect as Koschevoi?" asked the chiefs.
"We choose Kukubenko," shouted some.
"We won't have Kukubenko!" screamed another party: "he is too young; the
milk has not dried off his lips yet."
"Let Schilo be hetman!" shouted some: "make Schilo our Koschevoi!"
"Away with your Schilo!" yelled the crowd; "what kind of a Kozak is he
who is as thievish as a Tatar? To the devil in a sack with your drunken
Schilo!"
"Borodaty! let us make Borodaty our Koschevoi!"
"We won't have Borodaty! To the evil one's mother with Borodaty!"
"Shout Kirdyanga!" whispered Taras Bulba to several.
"Kirdyanga, Kirdyanga!" shouted the crowd. "Borodaty, Borodaty!
Kirdyanga, Kirdyanga! Schilo! Away with Schilo! Kirdyanga!"
All the candidates, on hearing their names mentioned, quitted the crowd,
in order not to give any one a chance of supposing that they were personally
assisting in their election.
"Kirdyanga, Kirdyanga!" echoed more strongly than the rest.
"Borodaty!"
They proceeded to decide the matter by a show of hands, and Kirdyanga
won.
"Fetch Kirdyanga!" they shouted. Half a score of Kozaks immediately
left the crowd--some of them hardly able to keep their feet, to such an
extent had they drunk--and went directly to Kirdyanga to inform him of his
election.
Kirdyanga, a very old but wise Kozak, had been sitting for some time in
his kurén, as if he knew nothing of what was going on.
"What is it, gentles? What do you wish?" he inquired.
"Come, they have chosen you for Koschevoi."
"Have mercy, gentles!" said Kirdyanga. "How can I be worthy of such
honour? Why should I be made Koschevoi? I have not sufficient capacity to
fill such a post. Could no better person be found in all the army?"
"Come, I say!" shouted the Zaporozhtzi. Two of them seized him by the
arms; and in spite of his planting his feet firmly they finally dragged him
to the square, accompanying his progress with shouts, blows from behind with
their fists, kicks, and exhortations. "Don't hold back, you son of Satan!
Accept the honour, you dog, when it is given!" In this manner Kirdyanga was
conducted into the ring of Kozaks.
"How now, gentles?" announced those who had brought him, "are you agreed
that this Kozak shall be your Koschevoi?"
"We are all agreed!" shouted the throng, and the whole plain trembled for
a long time afterwards from the shout.
One of the chiefs took the staff and brought it to the newly elected
Koschevoi. Kirdyanga, in accordance with custom, immediately refused it. The
chief offered it a second time; Kirdyanga again refused it, and then, at the
third offer, accepted the staff. A cry of approbation rang out from the
crowd, and again the whole plain resounded afar with the Kozaks' shout.
Then there stepped out from among the people the four oldest of them all,
white-bearded, white-haired Kozaks; though there were no very old men in
the Sich, for none of the Zaporozhtzi ever died in their beds. Taking each
a handful of earth, which recent rain had converted into mud, they laid it
on Kirdyanga's head. The wet earth trickled down from his head on to his
moustache and cheeks and smeared his whole face. But Kirdyanga stood
immovable in his place, and thanked the Kozaks for the honour shown him.
Thus ended the noisy election, concerning which we cannot say whether it
was as pleasing to the others as it was to Bulba; by means of it he had
revenged himself on the former Koschevoi. Moreover, Kirdyanga was an old
comrade, and had been with him on the same expeditions by sea and land,
sharing the toils and hardships of war. The crowd immediately dispersed to
celebrate the election, and such revelry ensued as Ostap and Andríi had not
yet beheld. The taverns were attacked and mead, corn-brandy, and beer seized
without payment, the owners being only too glad to escape with whole skins
themselves. The whole night passed amid shouts, songs, and rejoicings; and
the rising moon gazed long at troops of musicians traversing the streets
with guitars, flutes, tambourines, and the church choir, who were kept in
the Sich to sing in church and glorify the deeds of the Zaporozhtzi. At
length drunkenness and fatigue began to overpower even these strong heads,
and here and there a Kozak could be seen to fall to the ground, embracing
a comrade in fraternal fashion; whilst maudlin, and even weeping, the latter
rolled upon the earth with him. Here a whole group would lie down in a heap;
there a man would choose the most comfortable position and stretch himself
out on a log of wood. The last, and strongest, still uttered some incoherent
speeches; finally even they, yielding to the power of intoxication, flung
themselves down and all the Sich slept.
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