"That's more like you, Kargopol," returned Lieutenant Casimir Andreitch Borisoff. The cloud had indeed cleared like magic from the captain's round, jovial, somewhat rubicund face; evidently he was not a man on whom ill-temper sat long or heavily.
"The truth is, I am becoming a little uneasy. Isn't there something in the Scriptures about hunting after a dead dog, after a flea? I confess I'd rather stick to our proper work, and smash Oyama instead of running after this Ah Lum and his Chunchuses."
"Yes, confound the fellow! He's as agile as the little unmentionable fellow you were beguiled into naming, though by all accounts he's more like a live lion than a dead dog. That fight of his was a masterly piece of work."
"I only wish we could get to grips with him. Here have I been for weeks—months—on the hunt, and haven't so much as sighted a bandit. Hi there! Ivan Samsonitch, ask the Chinaman how far it is to this precious village."
The trooper addressed, riding beside a burly Chinaman twenty paces ahead, translated the question into a barbarous mixture of Chinese and pidgin Russian. The Chinaman, whose legs as he bestrode his little pony almost touched the ground, bowed humbly upon the animal's neck, and barked a reply.
"He says, little father," said the sergeant, translating, "that Pai-chi-kou is about seven li farther; that is four versts; but there is a river to be forded."
"Another river! That makes a round dozen since we started. And the water's icy cold, confound it!"
The captain had drawn up to the sergeant; only to him and the Chinaman was his mild grumble audible. The sergeant was a man of responsibility with whom he could to a certain extent unbend; the men must hear no complaints. For nine hours the detachment of 150 Cossacks had marched up hill and down dale over tracks slippery with frost, wading streams that in another month would be deeply coated with ice. Their progress was hampered by the necessity of watching and assisting the heavily-laden pack-mules that formed the major part of the column. Their destination was the village of Pai-chi-kou, where they were to be joined by the larger force for which they were carrying ammunition and supplies. As verst succeeded verst, the captain thought, and said to Lieutenant Borisoff, hard things of the transport officer who had drawn out the itinerary. The want of good service maps was a terrible disadvantage. Once the detachment had lost its way altogether; and only after an hour had been spent in futile search was a countryman opportunely discovered and pressed into the service as guide. The man was very unwilling to act; he protested his wish to go in an entirely different direction, to a village where his grandfather awaited burial rites. But Captain Kargopol had had enough dealings with Chinamen to regard this grandfather as an oriental Mrs. Harris; he turned a deaf ear to the man's protests, and was unmelted by his facile tears. Under his guidance the troops had trudged along, the men bearing the fatigues of the march with the fine cheerfulness of the Russian soldier, breaking out every now and then into song, their rich voices ringing out gloriously in the clear, frosty air.
The twelfth river was waded, only one of the mules losing its footing and submerging its load. Shortly afterwards, just as dusk was falling, the column arrived at a long, straggling village.
"This is Pai-chi-kou?" said the captain.