"So then, the Cossack's strength must run to seed? So men must end their lives like so many dogs, without having been of any use to their country, or to Christendom? What do we live for, then? What the devil is the use of our life; tell me that? Thou art a sensible man; there was some reason for electing thee Koschevoï; tell me, what do we live for?"
The Koschevoï left the question unanswered. He was a stubborn Cossack; he remained silent for a while, and then said, "Nevertheless, there can be no war."
"So there will be no war?" once more asked Tarass.
"No."
"So it is of no use to think of it?"
"It is of no use."
"Well, wait a little, thou—devil's fist!" said Boolba to himself. "I'll teach thee to know me!" And he resolved on the spot to take his revenge of the Koschevoï.
After having talked first with one and then another, he made up a drinking party, and a number of tipsy Cossacks rushed to the public square; here, tied to a pole, were the kettle-drums, which were used for summoning the rada[17] but not finding the sticks, which were in charge of an official called doobish, they caught up logs of wood, and began beating the drums with them. The first who appeared on hearing the sound of the drums was the doobish, a tall one-eyed man, whose only eye was still very sleepy.
"Who dares to beat the drum?" cried he.
"Be silent; take thy sticks, and beat the drum when thou art ordered to do so," answered the tipsy elders.