They then fished the dead Cossack out of the pond, and having thrown him across the horse, they began to climb the side of the Donon by a footpath so steep that Materne kept repeating, a hundred times over, "The horse will never be able to pass this way."
But the horse, lean and agile as a mountain goat, passed more easily than they, which led the old huntsman to say at length: "These Cossacks have famous horses. When I grow quite old, I shall keep this one to go hunting with. We've got a famous horse, boys; he looks like a cow, but he's got the strength of a dray-horse."
Occasionally, too, he made reflections on the Cossack: "What a droll face, eh? a round nose, and a forehead like a cheese-box. There are, for certain, some strange fellows in the world! You took good aim at him, Kasper; hit him just in the middle of the chest; and see, the ball has come out at the back. Famous powder; Divès always keeps capital stuff."
About six o'clock they heard the first challenge of their sentinels: "Who goes there?"
"France!" replied Materne, advancing.
Everybody ran to meet them, exclaiming, "Here is Materne!"
Hullin himself, as curious as the rest, could not help running up with Doctor Lorquin. The men were already crowding round the horse, staring at him in open-mouthed wonder, by the side of a large fire where their supper was cooking.
"It is a Cossack," said Hullin, pressing the hand of Materne.
"Yes, Jean-Claude; we caught him just by the lake of the Riel: it was Kasper who shot him."