'What's wrong with Andshay? He's in trouble. There's no trace of his boy.'
'None?'
'A pity! He was a sturdy lad!'
'Have they found nothing?'
'No. All the neighbours have been out to search; they've searched the lakes, they've searched the wood, they've been searching for a whole week. But there's nothing,—nothing.'
'Ah!—sure to be a bear. They say one appeared in the valley; Kecherges saw him,' muttered the fisherman, who had arrived with me.
At the word, 'bear,' Chachak, who was standing by the fire, silently playing with his fingers, suddenly looked up. Everyone stopped talking, and involuntarily turned towards him. His old wife nervously tried to change the subject.
'A bear! Where was he seen?' Chachak asked quickly in a low tone, sitting down on the bench.
'Oh! Who can tell? Perhaps it wasn't one either,' the fisherman answered hesitatingly.
'A bear,—depend upon it!' Chachak said slowly. 'They have found neither flesh nor clothes:—"He" usually buries the remains of his prey in the ground,—"He" even scrapes the blood off. That's just what "He" does. You say Kecherges saw "Him?"' he again asked the fisherman.