They walked on. The Pleiades were beginning to settle,—it was not far from morning. They did not know whether they were going right, or not. Zhilín thought that that was the path over which they had taken him, and that he was about ten versts from his own people; still there were no certain signs, and, besides, in the night nothing could be made out. They came out on a clearing. Kostylín sat down, and said:
"Do as you please, but I will not go any farther! My feet refuse to move."
Zhilín begged him to go on.
"No," he said, "I cannot walk on."
Zhilín got angry, spit out in disgust, and scolded him.
"Then I will go by myself,—good-bye!"
Kostylín got up and walked on. They walked about four versts. The mist grew denser in the forest, and nothing could be seen in front of them, and the stars were quite dim.
Suddenly they heard a horse tramping in front of them. They could hear the horse catch with its hoofs in the stones. Zhilín lay down on his belly, and put his ear to the ground to listen.
"So it is, a rider is coming this way!"