They pushed off the boat; the fishermen climbed in, and each taking an oar, raised them in the air, ready for the word of command.
"One!"
The oars struck the water together; the boat swept forward into the vast plane of glistening water.
"Two!" sang out the steersman.
And like the legs of an enormous tortoise the oars moved in the rowlocks.
"One!...' Two!..."
On the shore, at the dry end of the nets, there remained five men—Sereja, Vassili, and three others. One of the three stretched himself on the sand, and said—
"We might perhaps get a nap."
The two others followed his example, and three ragged bodies threw themselves down in a heap.
"Why did you not come Sunday?" Vassili asked Sereja, as he led him towards the hut.