“I hear horses,” whispered Soroka.
But the steps began to retreat from the cabin, and soon after was heard the threatening and hoarse bellowing of a stag.
“That is a stag! He is making himself known to a doe, or fighting off another horned fellow.”
“Throughout the whole forest are entertainments as if at the wedding of Satan.”
They were silent again and began to doze. The sergeant raised his head at times and listened for a while, then dropped it toward his breast. Thus passed an hour, and a second; at last the nearest pine-trees from being black became gray, and the tops grew whiter each moment, as if some one had burnished them with molten silver. The bellowing of stags ceased, and complete stillness reigned in the forest depths. Dawn passed gradually into day; the white and pale light began to absorb rosy and golden gleams; at last perfect morning had come, and lighted the tired faces of the soldiers sleeping a firm sleep at the cabin.
Then the door opened, Kmita appeared on the threshold, and called,—
“Soroka! come here!”
The soldiers sprang up.
“For God’s sake, is your grace on foot?” asked Soroka.
“But you have slept like oxen; it would have been possible to cut off your heads and throw them out before any one would have been roused.”