“I am ashamed of you,” said Nichifor sulkily. “You are older than I am and yet you have such ideas in your head.”
“Don’t get excited, good man, I was only joking. Good luck! The Lord will show you what to do.” And on he went.
“Look, Mistress Malca, what people the devil has put in this world! He is only out to steal. If there had been a barrel of wine or brandy about, do you think he would have left the carriage stuck in the middle of the road all that time? But I see, anything there is to do must be done by old Nichifor. We must have another try.”
And again he began to cut another sapling. He tried and he tried till he got that, too, into place. Then he whipped up the mares and once more trotted a little way, but at the first slope, the axle-pin broke again.
“Now, Mistress Malca, I must say the same as that man, we shall have to spend the night in the forest.”
“Oh! Woe is me! Woe is me! Mosh Nichifor, what are you saying?”
“I am saying what is obvious to my eyes. Look yourself; can’t you see the sun is going down behind the hill, and we are still in the same place? It is nothing at all, so don’t worry. I know of a clearing in the wood quite near here. We will go there, and we shall be just as though we were at home. The place is sheltered and the mares can graze. You’ll sleep in the carriage, and I shall mount guard all night. The night soon passes, we must spend it as best we can, but I will remind my old woman all the rest of her days of this misfortune, for it is her fault that things have gone so with me.”
“Well, do what you think best, Mosh Nichifor; it’s sure to be right.”
“Come, young lady, don’t take it too much to heart, for we shall be quite all right.”
And at once old Nichifor unharnessed the mares and, turning the carriage, he drew it as well as he could, till he reached the clearing.