All they saved from Iván's house was the old man, who was pulled out, and everybody jumped out in just what they had on. Everything else was burned, except the horses in the pasture: the cattle were burned, the chickens on their roosts, the carts, the ploughs, the harrows, the women's chests, the grain in the granary,—everything was burned.
Gavrílo's cattle were saved, and they dragged a few things out of his house.
It burned for a long time, all night long. Iván stood near his yard, and kept looking at it, and saying:
"What is this? Friends! If I could just pull it out and put it out!"
But when the ceiling in the hut fell down, he jumped into the hottest place, took hold of a brand, and wanted to pull it out. The women saw him and began to call him back, but he pulled out one log and started for another: he staggered and fell on the fire. Then his son rushed after him and dragged him out. Iván had his hair and beard singed and his garments burnt and his hands blistered, but he did not feel anything.
"His sorrow has bereft him of his senses," people said.
The fire died down, but Iván was still standing there, and saying:
"Friends, what is this? If I could only pull it out."
In the morning the elder sent his son to Iván.
"Uncle Iván, your father is dying: he has sent for you, to bid you good-bye."