Thus it was that we came at last to an elbow of the great Russian road, which is a noble work, but not by any means such as we should make, if we had the opportunity; and there we found a sample of what human nature is. Having surmounted, by wonderful endurance and perpetual rivalry with one another, obstacles that seemed insuperable, surely we should have gone on with double spirit, when we came upon a Christian highway. Instead of that, every blessed man sat down, and thanked Heaven—or in truer truth thanked himself—for having got along so famously. It was dark, as dark as one could ever wish to see it, down in this gorge of magnificence, with the river roaring sleepy thunder, and the snow-clouds spent, and the stars looking faint. I thought—as an Englishman thinks by instinct—that men of our own race would not have stopped (at any rate if there was money in it) and shut up in this sudden style.
However there was more excuse than help for it; and Stepan and myself, the two who cared most deeply about the issue, tried to cheer each other, so far as our mutual misunderstandings reached.
Then by a lucky chance the gallant miners (whom we should have missed perhaps, if we had gone on at once) came into our camp, with light hearts and merry songs, delighted at the prospect of a lively brush; for so they all regarded it. Jack Nickols himself had been unable to resist the fierce temptation, and gloomy would be the outlook for any foe who crossed his sky-line, though I cannot recollect just now his celebrated score at the "running deer."
It was terrible to me to find these fellows taking things so easily, not through any callous inhumanity or indifference, but simply because their own private interests were not immediately involved. For instance, the way in which Nickols, and Cator, and Strogue discussed the situation was enough to sponge out of my heart a great lump of that affection for the human race without which a man becomes miserable. Weary as they were, they found it needful to hold some little council, while they smoked their pipes after supper, having settled that all should take four hours of sleep if they could get it, and start again when the moon arose. I sat in a corner and listened to them, refraining from all interruption, though a great part of what they said was new to me; for if I had spoken, some heat might have followed my words, and done mischief to all of us.
Strogue. "I have always had the credit of seeing as far into a hayrick as any man that ever sucked a coral. But this fiend of a woman beats me hollow. I can't make out what her little game is."
Nickols. "Well, I can't see any difficulty about it. She wants her brother's property, and to be the lady of the other tribe too, which she would be as Dadian's daughter, if her brother Imar were done away with. She will have him tried for the death of her husband, or get him shot without trial. Then she has discharged her duty according to the rules of the blood-feud, and she steps into poor Imar's shoes. To me it is plainer than a pikestaff."
Cator. "All that looks straight enough, but it won't hold water. You forget the pretty girl. Imar has a lovely daughter, and she would be the head of the tribe, not Marva, when his goose is cooked."
Nickols. "That's true enough. But a woman with such a strong mind wouldn't make much bones of that. Or rather she'd make bones of her in no time. I am very sorry for that pretty girl. She is booked for a share of her father's grave."
Strogue. "Naturally I look deeper into things than you young fellows can. The real difficulty has escaped you both. The woman is bad enough for anything. I know things of her that I won't tell, at any rate for the present.