'The old man doesn't come, he doesn't come,—and he won't come,' muttered one of the group, sitting among his companions, who were circling round the fire. He was a stout man of possibly fifty years of age, unlike a Tungus, and dressed like a Yakut, with a silver Yakut belt. He had the puffed-up air of a rich man knowing his own importance. 'Who cares to visit the dying?' he added, sulkily.
'You didn't try to escape your fate,' gloomily answered a poorly dressed old man, as tawny as copper, and as wrinkled as moss, who was sitting on the opposite side of the fire.
'That is true!' a third repeated. 'You don't try to escape, you don't hide. Didn't I run away, didn't I hide? And what came of it?' and, with emotion, he began for the hundredth time to relate the story of his misfortune. Each time it was received with equal attention.
'When the news of the disaster came I was on the summit of Bur-Janga, and was just getting ready to go down; but I hesitated, and delayed my start. For a long while the God had mercy on me;—I know that!—till one night I awoke terrified, with a beating heart. I listened:—I heard what seemed like a shot, and loud calling. I drew my head from under the cover, and again I seemed to hear a noise in the wood, like distant shooting. The dogs whined and howled, as if they had noticed a bear. I went out of the tent, and looked. The moon was shining, and an immense shadow passed into the wood from the bottom of the valley, avoiding the hills. The dogs fell at my feet, and I covered my eyes with my hand, unable to look. My heart beat in my breast like a frightened bird, my feet were rigid with terror.'
'O-oh!' echoed the sighs of the listeners.
'And what happened next?—A hundred reindeer fell dead at once. Not waiting for dawn, we pushed on that very night. We fled, not halting anywhere, but our herds became smaller every day. So I divided them, and sent them in three directions; yet in a few days' time my son,—and later my daughter,—returned empty-handed. Then I made up my mind to flee to the end of the world, where no one ever goes. But is there a place anywhere, to which no one has ever yet been? I took nothing belonging to the dying animals, not even the halters; I left everything. And when the leader fell I did not even take the figured band from his head, which had come down to me from my ancestors.'
'A-ah!' responded the listeners.
'The women burst into tears at that,' he continued, encouraged by the sympathy of his audience, 'but the Russian traders had advised it. "Take none of His offering, Brother; He seeks out His own, and will find it everywhere!" So I obeyed; I left it and fled. At last I had gone so far that I grew frightened myself:—may be no one had ever been there before me. There were no trees anywhere, not even bushes,—only the same rocks and snow everywhere,—and the gale. It was impossible to pitch a tent for want of poles, and I was afraid to send to the wood for them, so we dug out a hole in the snow under a rock, and settled ourselves in it. We were comfortable there, and began to be cheerful once more, for the plague ceased. One day passed,—a second,—and none of the reindeer had sickened. We waited in the silence of fear; we not only avoided talking, but even thinking about "Him," for possibly "He" too would forget us! We did not allow the reindeer out of our sight, and we went where they led us, spending the night among the herd, like the Chukchee. In this way some time passed. My wife was already beginning to be cheerful, and I myself thought that all would be well, and we should grow richer after a while. But again I suddenly awoke in the night, torn by anxiety. The moon was shining as on that other night, and everything was bright and still all round. The tired reindeer were sleeping in a heap in the snow. But a shadow hung in the air, falling independently, and not from a rock.'
Again the listeners responded with sighs.
'I slipped out of bed cautiously, took my gun, and without dressing, began to steal, naked, towards "Him." "He" did not notice me, for "He" was standing on a rock, taking stock of what I possessed. But when I made a slight sound as I was hurriedly taking aim, "He" turned and fixed "His" great burning eyes on me. I shot between them. What happened afterwards I do not know. Did "He" hit me, or cover me with "His" breath? I have no idea.