Yet the hard physical work had a charm of its own. It gave one a quite peculiar sensation to be driving along in the dark over the smooth, white surface of the snow, on and on into the depths of the forest. The profoundest silence reigned everywhere, broken by the crackling of the snow under the horses’ hoofs and the runners of the sledge, and sometimes by the distant howling of a wolf. Myriads of stars sparkled in the firmament, and not a trace of man’s existence was anywhere to be seen. But the cruel cold, increasing in severity towards dawn, would soon drive away all poetical ideas. The frost penetrated our sheepskins, and we felt as if we were being pricked all over our bodies with sharp needles. Often the brandy in our flasks would freeze, and although we took all possible precautions, the glass would split and the spirit be left in a frozen lump.
COTTAGE SHARED BY “POLITICALS” IN THE KARA PENAL SETTLEMENT
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These expeditions, fortunately, were not of very frequent occurrence, the turn of each man coming only about three or four times in the course of the winter. The fetching of wood, on the other hand, was continually necessary; but although this, too, entailed considerable exertion, it was not nearly so serious an undertaking.
After a spell of hard work it used to feel luxury indeed to be back in one’s own house. The little peasant hut in which I dwelt seemed a perfect palace, and I thought it most comfortable; though any spoilt child of civilisation would have seen much to be improved in it. Nearly a third of its space was taken up by a great Russian stove, which unfortunately often smoked; doors and windows shut very imperfectly; and in both floor and walls there were great cracks, through which the wind whistled everlastingly, despite my continual efforts to stop them up. But all these were petty details that could not detract from the charm of having a “home” of one’s own. Only those who have themselves undergone the martyrdom of never being alone for an instant, and of feeling always conscious that the eyes of others are upon one’s every action, can properly realise that charm. To have the enjoyment of that independent solitude it was worth while putting up with a number of small inconveniences that might to a certain extent have been avoided by a ménage-à-deux. It was only an occasional pair of bosom friends who chose to live in that fashion. Most of us much preferred to undertake singly the duties of housekeeping—stoking the stove, carrying water, cleaning, etc.
My hut, which, when I took possession of it, was in a state of extreme disrepair, was the property of the State. With my own hands I mended it up as well as I could. It stood a little apart from the other dwellings, at the end of the village, on the slope of a hill, and close to the little cemetery. At first I used to feel some anxiety over the insecurity of the door; a push from without was sufficient to open it, and this was hardly agreeable when one knew that round about dwelt all sorts of criminals—some very queer customers among them. However, I soon found that I had no cause to fear anything from these people; and when I returned home late at night by lonely ways and bypaths, I felt as safe as in the best-policed town.
One of the most notorious criminals in the settlement was a man named Lissenko. It was reported of him that in one of his robberies he had killed a whole family—men, women, and children. He was about sixty when I first knew him, and still had the strength of a giant. He struck me as being crafty, cunning, and reckless, but not a malicious kind of fellow, and he was extremely pious withal. No one who knew him personally could easily believe him to have murdered innocent children. I was curious to learn from himself how much truth there was in the reports that were current concerning him, and I found an opportunity one day of questioning him on the subject.
“Yes, of course it’s true,” said he. “What about it?”
“But how could you have the heart to kill a child?” a friend of mine asked him.