"Let me rest," he said, "and get a drink! We will eat our cakes. It cannot be far now."
He had just got down to drink, when he heard the tramping of horses behind them. Again they rushed to the right, into the bushes, down an incline, and lay down.
They could hear Tartar voices. The Tartars stopped at the very spot where they had left the road. They talked awhile, then they made a sound, as though sicking dogs. Something crashed through the bushes, and a strange dog made straight for them. It stopped and began to bark.
Then the Tartars came down,—they, too, were strangers. They took them, bound them, put them on their horses, and carried them off.
They travelled about three versts, when they were met by Abdul, the prisoners' master, and two more Tartars. They talked with each other, and the prisoners were put on the other horses and taken back to the village.
Abdul no longer laughed, and did not speak one word with them.
They were brought to the village at daybreak, and were placed in the street. The children ran up and beat them with stones and sticks, and screamed.
The Tartars gathered in a circle, and the old man from down-hill came, too. They talked together. Zhilín saw that they were sitting in judgment on them, discussing what to do with them. Some said that they ought to be sent farther into the mountains, but the old man said that they should be killed. Abdul disputed with them and said:
"I have paid money for them, and I will get a ransom for them."
But the old man said: