He ran to the help of the child as soon as he had the strength; but when he reached the door of the room he knocked in the darkness against Ivan coming out.
“All is over, master; let us lose no time, and don’t make a noise. Don’t make a noise, I tell you,” he answered to his master’s despairing reproaches: “what’s done is done; it is impossible to draw back now. Until we are free, every man I meet is dead, or else he must kill me; and if any one comes in here before our departure, I don’t care whether it is a man, a woman, or a child, a friend or an enemy, I lay him there with the others.”
He lighted a splinter of larch and began to rummage in the brigand’s cartridge-box and pockets; the key of the fetters was not there: he sought for it as vainly in the woman’s clothes, in a chest, and wherever he fancied it could be hidden. Whilst he made this search, the major gave himself up without restraint to his grief. Ivan comforted him in his own way. “You would do better,” he said, “to weep for the key of the fetters which is lost. Why should you regret this race of brigands, who have tortured you for more than fifteen months? They wanted to put us to death, well! their turn has come before ours. Is it my fault? May hell swallow them all!”
However, as the key of the fetters was not to be found, so many slaughters would be in vain if they could not manage to break them. Ivan, with the corner of the axe, succeeded in loosening the ring on the hand, but that which fastened the chain to the feet resisted all his efforts; he was afraid of hurting his master, and dared not use all his strength. On the other hand, the night was advancing, and the danger became urgent; they decided to go. Ivan fastened the chain firmly to the major’s belt, so that it impeded him as little as possible, and made no noise. He placed in a wallet a quarter of mutton, the remains of the evening meal, added to it some other provisions, and armed himself with the dead man’s pistol and dagger. Kaskambo took possession of his “burka”;[16] they went out in silence, and, going round the house to avoid meeting any one, they took the path into the mountains, instead of going towards Mozdok and the ordinary road, easily foreseeing that they would be pursued in that direction. For the rest of the night they tramped along the mountains that lay on their right, and when day began to dawn they entered a beech wood which crowned the whole mountain, and sheltered them from the danger of being seen from a distance.
It was in the month of February; the ground, on these heights, and especially in the forest, was still covered with a hard snow which supported the travellers’ steps during the night and part of the morning; but towards midday, when it had been softened by the sun, they sank at every instant, which made their progress very slow. Thus they reached laboriously the side of a deep valley which they had to cross, in the depths of which the snow had disappeared; a beaten path followed the windings of the stream, and proclaimed that the place was frequented. On this account, and because of the fatigue which overwhelmed the major, the travellers decided to remain in that spot to wait for the night; they settled down between some isolated rocks which projected from the snow. Ivan cut down some pine-branches to make from them, on the snow, a thick bed, on which the major slept. While he rested, Ivan tried to find out where they were. The valley at the summit of which they were was surrounded by lofty mountains between which no outlet was visible: he saw that it was impossible to avoid the beaten track, and that they must of necessity follow the course of the stream in order to get out of the labyrinth. It was about eleven o’clock at night, and the snow was beginning to harden again, when they descended into the valley. But before beginning their journey they set fire to their shelter, as much to warm themselves as to prepare a little meal of shashlyk, of which they were in great need. A handful of snow was their drink, and a mouthful of brandy finished the feast. They crossed the valley, luckily without seeing anyone, and entered the pass where the path and the stream were confined between steep perpendicular mountains. They walked with all possible speed, knowing well the danger they ran of being met in this narrow passage, out of which they only emerged towards nine o’clock in the morning.
It was then only that the dark pass suddenly opened out, and that they saw, beyond the lower mountains which intersected in front of them, the immense horizon of Russia, like a distant sea. It would be difficult to form an idea of the joy felt by the major at this unexpected sight. “Russia! Russia!” was the only word he could pronounce. The travellers sat down to rest and to enjoy beforehand their approaching freedom. This anticipation of happiness was mingled in the major’s mind with the memory of the horrible catastrophe which he had just witnessed, and which his fetters and blood-stained clothes recalled to him vividly. With eyes fixed on the distant goal of his labours, he calculated the difficulties of the journey. The sight of the long and dangerous road which remained for him to travel with fettered feet and legs swollen with fatigue, soon obliterated even the trace of the momentary pleasure which the sight of his native land had given him. To the torments of imagination was added a burning thirst. Ivan went down to the stream which flowed some way off to bring some water to his master; he found there a bridge made of two trees and saw far off a dwelling. It was a kind of chalet, a summer house of the Tchetchens which happened to be empty. In the plight of the fugitives, this isolated house was a precious discovery. Ivan came to tear his master away from his reflections, in order to lead him into the refuge which he had just discovered, and after having settled him there he at once began to look for the store.
The inhabitants of the Caucasus, who, for the most part, are half nomads and often exposed to attacks from their neighbours, always have near their houses caves, in which they hide their provisions and goods. These stores, formed like narrow wells, are closed with a plank or large stone carefully covered with earth, and are always placed in spots where turf is wanting, for fear the colour of the grass should betray the deposit. In spite of these precautions, the Russian soldiers often discover them; they strike the earth with the ramrods of their guns in the beaten paths which are near dwellings, and the sound indicates the hollows which they seek. Ivan found one under a shed adjoining the house, in which he discovered earthenware pots, some ears of maize, a piece of rock-salt and several household utensils. He ran to fetch water for cooking purposes; the quarter of mutton and some potatoes which he had brought were placed on the fire. While the soup was preparing, Kaskambo roasted the ears of maize: finally, some hazelnuts also found in the store completed the meal. When he had finished, Ivan, with more time and means, succeeded in freeing his master from his chains; and the latter, calmer, and revived by a meal excellent under the circumstances, slept soundly, and it was deep night when he awoke. In spite of this favourable rest, when he wanted to continue his journey, his swollen legs were so stiff that he could not make the least movement without suffering unbearable pain. However, he had to go. Leaning on his servant, he set out mournfully, convinced that he would never reach the longed-for goal. The motion and the heat of walking appeased little by little the pain he was suffering. He walked all night, often stopping, and then immediately recommencing his march. Sometimes also, giving way to discouragement, he threw himself on the ground, and urged Ivan to leave him to his evil fate. His dauntless companion not only encouraged him by his talk and example, but almost used violence to raise and drag him along with him. They found in their journey a difficult and dangerous pass, which they could not avoid. To wait for day would have caused an irreparable loss of time; they decided to cross it at the risk of being dashed to pieces, but, before allowing his master to enter upon it, Ivan wished to reconnoitre and go over it alone. While he descended, Kaskambo stayed on the brink of the rock in a state of anxiety difficult to describe. The night was dark; he heard beneath his feet the dull murmur of a rapid stream which flowed through the valley; the sound of the stones loosened from the mountain under his companion’s tread, and falling into the water, made him aware of the immense depth of the precipice on the edge of which he had stopped. In this moment of anguish, which might perhaps be the last of his life, the memory of his mother returned to his mind; she had tenderly blessed him on his departure from the line; this thought restored his courage. A secret presentiment gave him the hope of seeing her again. “O God!” he cried, “grant that her blessing may not be in vain!” As he was ending this short but fervent prayer, Ivan reappeared. The pass when surveyed was not so difficult as they had thought at first. After climbing down several fathoms between the rocks, it was necessary, in order to reach the practicable side, to walk along a narrow sloping ledge of rock, covered with slippery snow, beneath which was a sheer precipice. Ivan with his axe cut in the snow holes which made the passage easier: they crossed themselves. “Come then,” said Kaskambo, “if I perish, at least let it not be for want of courage; it was only illness that took that from me. I will go on now as long as God gives me strength.” They emerged successfully from the dangerous pass and continued their journey. The paths began to be more continuous and well-beaten, and they no longer found any snow except in places looking north, and on low-lying ground where it had accumulated. They had the good fortune to meet nobody until daybreak, when the sight of two men appearing in the distance obliged them to lie down on the ground so that they might not be seen.
When the mountains are left behind in these provinces, woods are no longer to be found; the ground there is absolutely bare, and a single tree would be vainly sought, except on the banks of the large rivers, where still they are very scarce, a most extraordinary thing, considering the fertility of the soil. They had for some time been following the course of the Sudja, which they had to cross to reach Mozdok, seeking a place where the water, less rapid, would offer a safer passage, when they saw a man on horseback coming straight towards them. The country, completely open, offered neither trees nor bushes as a means of hiding. They lay flat down under the bank of the Sudja, on the edge of the water. The traveller passed within a few fathoms of their lair. They intended only to defend themselves if they were attacked. Ivan drew his dagger and gave the pistol to the major. Seeing then that the rider was only a child of twelve or thirteen, he hurled himself suddenly upon him, collared him, and threw him down on the grass. The youth would have resisted, but, seeing the major appear on the river-bank, pistol in hand, he fled at full speed. The horse had no saddle, and a halter passed through its mouth by way of bridle. The two fugitives at once made use of their capture to cross the river. This encounter was very fortunate for them, for they soon saw that it would have been impossible for them to pass it on foot, as they had purposed. Their mount, although burdened with the weight of two men, was almost carried away by the swiftness of the water. However, they arrived safe and sound at the opposite shore, which unfortunately was too steep for the horse to be able to land. They got off to lighten it. As Ivan pulled with all his might to enable it to mount upon the shore, the halter came unfastened and remained in his hands. The animal, swept away by the current, after many efforts to land, was swallowed up in the river, and drowned.
Deprived of this resource, but from this time less troubled as to the danger of pursuit, they made for a hillock, covered with loose rocks, which they saw in the distance, intending to hide themselves and rest there until night. From their reckoning of the distance they had already travelled, they judged that the dwellings of the peaceful Tchetchens ought not to be very far away; but nothing could be more unsafe than to give themselves up to these men, whose probable treachery might be their undoing.
However, considering the weak state of Kaskambo, it would be very difficult for him to reach the Terek unaided. Their provisions were exhausted: they passed the rest of the day in gloomy silence, not daring to reveal their anxieties to each other. Towards evening, the major saw his denshchik strike his brow with his fist, uttering a deep sigh. Astonished at this sudden despair, which his dauntless companion had in no way evinced until then, he asked him the reason of it.