"He colors!"
Indeed, there were traces of blood on the grass.
"You haven't missed, though far. He is coloring. Oh, he is coloring! We must follow."
And so we went. Here and there we came upon trampled grass and more traces of blood. The wounded wolf rested from time to time; that was evident. Meanwhile an hour passed in woods and thickets, then a second. The sun was now high; we had gone over an immense piece of road without finding a thing except traces, which at times disappeared altogether. Then we came to the corner of the forest; traces continued for about two versts more through a field toward the pond, and were lost at last in swampy ground covered with reeds and sweet flag. It was impossible to go farther without a dog.
"He will stay there; I shall find him to-morrow," said Vah, and we turned toward home.
Soon I ceased to think of Vah's wolf and the result of the hunt, which was rather unfortunate. I returned to my usual circle of suffering. When we were approaching the forest, a hare sprang up almost from under my feet; instead of shooting it, I trembled, as if roused from sleep.
"Ah!" cried Vah, in indignation, "I would shoot my own brother if he jumped up in that way."
I only laughed and went on in silence. When crossing the so-called "forest road" which led to the highway of Horeli, I saw fresh tracks of a horse wearing shoes.
"Do you know, Vah, what tracks these are?"
"It seems to me that they are made by the young Panich from Horeli, on his way to the mansion."