“It was a wild sort of life I was leading. Sometimes for days together I did not speak a word to a fellow-creature. Now and then I fell in with woodcutters, but they were poor men who knew how to commiserate those in distress, and seldom asked me questions. The greatest assistance I received was from men of my own faith. Our tenets have spread far and wide throughout the whole of the south of Russia, and I had no difficulty in discovering those who held them. I at first had little hopes of meeting with any friends, but He who governs by His will the mighty universe, and without whose knowledge not a sparrow falls to the ground, directed me to one. I one day had just climbed a tree after my night-march, and was commending myself to my Maker before going to sleep, when, as I looked once more around me, I saw coming through the wood an old man and a young lad. By their dress, and the hatchets in their belts, I knew that they were woodcutters. I thought, perhaps, that they might cut down the very tree I had climbed into; however, they went on a little way, and then, throwing aside their axes at the foot of a tree, they knelt down together and offered up their morning prayers. Then they sang a hymn, which our brethren often use when met together for worship. The sounds cheered my heart; I knew at once that they were friends. I quickly descended the tree, and went up to them. At first they were afraid, thinking that I was a spy upon their actions, but a few words reassured them. I told them at once my story, for I knew that I was in safe hands. They promised to assist me as far as they had the power. I by this time much wanted help. My provisions were well-nigh exhausted, my feet sore, and my boots worn out. I required a day’s rest, and here was an opportunity of enjoying it. The lad, who was the old man’s grandson, undertook to get my boots mended by a brother, who would ask no questions concerning me, and would gladly do it for charity’s sake. The old man promised to bring me next morning an ample supply of provisions, and, in the mean time, insisted on my taking rest while he and his boy watched near me. For this purpose they lopped off a number of branches from the surrounding trees, and formed an arbour. They then strewed the inside of it thickly with dry leaves, so as to form a more comfortable couch than I had enjoyed for many a day. I crept in, and was soon asleep. I had no fears, for I knew that the woodcutters were Christian men, and that nothing would induce them to betray me.
“They aroused me at noon to partake of their meal, which consisted but of black bread and fish taken from the neighbouring river. The fish, however, reminded me that, if I could but provide myself with a rod and tackle, I might frequently provide myself with food. I mentioned my idea to my new friends, and they promised to procure me what I wanted. I was always a good fisherman, and knew how to catch every sort of fish. I was surprised that I had not thought of this before starting from home.
“After dinner I again went to sleep, and rested soundly till the evening. I awoke up, and the old man came and sat down by me, giving me some more food. While we sat and ate we conversed earnestly of religious matters. The lad had gone away with my boots to the village, which was three versts off. He did more even than he promised, for soon after dark he returned with them thoroughly repaired.
“‘Our brother knew the importance of having them ready, in case you might be compelled to move away suddenly, so he lost no time in mending them,’ said the young lad as he gave them to me.
“Blessings on his head! He gave me also some provisions; but he did more than this, he brought out with him a Bible. It was not his own—he had borrowed it. By the light of a fir-torch, as we sat in the entrance of my bower, he read many chapters from its sacred pages. It was late before the old man and his grandson left me, promising to return early the next morning. They told me that I might securely rest there till then, sheltered by the bower. They brought some water and washed my feet, and anointed them with some salve, which the lad, most thoughtful for his years, had procured for the purpose. I had been too much accustomed to sleep out at night during my long years of hiding from persecution to have any fears after the assurance the woodcutters had given me, so, commending myself to my Maker, I quickly fell asleep.
“I was awoke by feeling a hand placed on my shoulder. I started up, believing that a police-officer was about to seize me. I had lived for some time in hourly expectation of being captured, and I could not throw off the feeling. I felt, notwithstanding, that to allow it to weigh on my mind was a sin, as it arose from want of faith and trust in God’s providence. I looked up, and beheld the honest countenance of the young woodcutter.
“‘You sleep soundly, father,’ said he with a smile. ‘Few but those who have good consciences can thus repose, I have heard. Well, father, I have brought you as much food as you can carry, and enough to last you for many days. Eat, and then we will set off. I am to go with you some of the way; my grandfather will meet us on the road. He wishes to say farewell to you. It is all settled, so say not a word on the matter.’
“I willingly agreed to the young lad’s proposal. I was too thankful to have a guide and companion for part of my dreary journey to desire to refuse his offer. Young Khor (that was the lad’s name) insisted on carrying my wallet, so I walked lightly along, with a cheerful heart. Thus I found, when most in distress, Providence had sent me aid. After walking about two versts through the wood, we saw the old man coming towards us.
“He embraced me warmly. ‘Heaven protect you, my son,’ he said; ‘all the brethren here will earnestly pray for you: may you escape our persecutors wherever you go, and may friends be raised up for you whenever you require them.’ I thanked him warmly. ‘Khor will go with you—Khor will guide you till you arrive at the abode of brother Sidor. It is but three days’ journey from hence. Khor will then easily find his way back, and Sidor will then guide you on your way farther;—farewell.’ With these words we parted. Young Khor was a pleasant, cheerful companion, and as he knew the country well, he led me by far more direct roads than I could have found myself. It was truly an agreeable change for me to have Khor with me. Instead of being left to my own thoughts, I had pleasant conversation. He, too, had brought a Testament with him, although he had not the whole Bible, and whenever we sat down to rest he pulled it out and read to me, or I read to him. We were now also able to travel by day instead of by night, as he was able to conduct me by byways where we were not likely to meet any one to interrupt us. At length we reached the abode of brother Sidor. He was a grey-headed old man, and from sad experience had learned caution. We knocked three times at his door before he opened it. When he had done so he did not speak, but stood in the porch, examining us from head to foot. This scrutiny was apparently satisfactory. ‘Come in and sit down,’ said he, at the same time placing fish, and bread, and cheese, and milk before us. ‘There, eat; when you have satisfied your hunger, I will hear what you wish to tell me.’ We gladly did as he desired, and when we had satisfied our hunger, I frankly told him all my history, and the object of my journey. ‘Ah, my son! I knew your father, Loutich Saveleff, very well, in my youth. We were fellow-servants together at Petersburg, in the establishment of Count Paul Illarionovitch. He kept up a great state, and gave great parties, and made us wear magnificent liveries, and we thought ourselves very fine fellows. When he died we could not procure other situations, and as we had saved nothing and could not pay our masters the tax, we were compelled to return to our native villages and to resume our labours in the field. This at first we thought very hard work, and grumbled at it exceedingly, but we could not help ourselves, and what at first we fancied a curse proved a blessing in the end. By that means the blessed light of gospel truth was made to shine on us. Your father was the first to receive it, and having procured two Bibles he sent me one of them, as the richest gift he could bestow. At first I valued it only as a gift from him, for I loved him much; and that he knew, or he would not have ventured to send it to me. I, however, began to read, and as I read on I learned to value it for itself, and would not now change it for all the wealth of the Czar. What, I often ask myself, would the world be without it? What can for a moment be compared to it? How dark, how gloomy would our life appear! How unjust, how unmerciful the Creator of the universe! No guide for the present; no certainty, no hope for the future. It teaches us all we should wish for, all we should desire to know; how to walk in this present life, how to bear affliction, what to expect in the future.’ Much more to the same effect the old man said. I loved the word of God, I had suffered much for its sake, but he opened my mind to many things; he showed more clearly to me its exceeding brilliancy. Thus Christian men always gain advantage by holding converse with each other about the volume on which their creed is founded. Oh! miserable, miserable men who have not that foundation! I spent a whole day under Sidor’s roof. Young Khor rested there too. He then set off with a light step to return home; he had no fears. In the solitude of the forest, on the vast steppe at midnight or noonday, he was sustained by a belief that One who could humble Himself to become man, and who so loved mankind that He could suffer death for their sakes, was ever watching over him. This knowledge had taught him to discredit all the foolish superstitions of our country. The Domvoi (the familiar spirit of the house, similar to the Brownie of Scotland) had no terrors for him; neither had the Roussalka (the wood fairy), nor the Leechie (the demon of the forest). He knew that there was no such being as the Trichka, who, it is supposed, will one day visit the country and commit incalculable mischief, nor any such thing as a Vodainoi, or water spirit; in truth, he felt sure that God would allow only one evil being to infest the earth, and that merely to try mankind, and the better to fit them for the time when he and his angels shall be chained for ever and ever. I was truly sorry to part from Khor, though my new friend Sidor was a man I was heartily glad to meet. He had seen much of the world: he had been in France and in England, and he told me that he much liked the English. At the time he was there he said he did not know the reason of this liking, but since then he had discovered that it arose from the national religion, so free from bigotry, superstition, and priestcraft, faults which have completely destroyed all purity in the national religion of Russia.
“But I must not stop to describe the conversations I held with old Sidor. He pressed me to spend some days with him to recruit my strength thoroughly before I should recommence my journey. I was glad of a little delay; at the same time I warned him that, should it be discovered that a stranger was at his cottage without a pass, he might be subject to severe penalties.