Taras Bulba/Chapter VIII

by Nicolai V. Gogol

 

VIII

 

The sun had not scaled half the height of heaven when all the kazáks assembled in a group. News had arrived from the Syech that the Tatárs, during the kazáks' absence, had plundered it thoroughly, had dug up the treasures which the kazáks kept buried in the ground, had killed or carried away into captivity all who remained, and had straightway set out, with all the flocks and droves of horses they had collected, for Perekop.

One kazák only, Maksim Golodukha, had torn himself out of the Tatárs' hands on the road, had stabbed the Mirza, had unbound his bag of sequins, and on a Tatár horse, in Tatár garments, had fled before his pursuers for two nights and a day and a half, ridden his horse to death, changed to another, killed that one also, and arrived at the Zaporozhian camp upon a third, having learned on the way that the Zaporozhtzi were before Dubno. He only succeeded in informing them that this misfortune had happened, but how it had happened,—whether the Zaporozhtzi who had remained behind had been carousing in kazák fashion, and had been carried drunk into captivity, and how the Tatárs had learned in what spot the treasures of the Army were buried,—he said nothing. The kazák was extremely tired; he was all swollen, and his face was burned and scorched by the wind; he fell down at once, and a deep sleep overpowered him.

In such cases it was customary for the Koshevói to pursue the brigands on the instant, endeavouring to overtake them on the road; for, the prisoners might find themselves promptly in the bazaars of Asia Minor, in Smyrna, or the Island of Crete, and God knows in what places the scalp-locked heads of Zaporozhtzi might not be seen. This was the reason of the kazáks assembling. They all stood, to a man, with their caps on; for they were not come together at the word of command of their ruling atamán, but to take counsel together as equals with equals. "Let the old men first advise!" rose a shout from the crowd. "Let the Koshevói give his opinion!" said others.

And the Koshevói, doffing his cap, not as commander, but as a comrade among comrades, thanked all the kazáks for the honour, and said: "There are among us many old men, and those who are wiser in counsel; but since you have deemed me worthy, this is my advice: not to lose any time, comrades, but to pursue the Tatárs, for you know, yourselves, what sort of a man the Tatár is. He will not pause with his stolen booty to await our coming, but will vanish in a twinkling, so that you can find no trace of him. Therefore, this is my counsel: Go. We have already diverted ourselves sufficiently here. The Lyakhs know what the kazáks are like. We have avenged our Faith to the extent of our powers; there's not much to satisfy greed in this famished city. And so my advice is: Go."

"Go!" rang heavily through the Zaporozhian kuréns. But such words did not suit Taras Bulba's mood at all; and he brought his frowning, iron-grey brows still lower down over his eyes, like bushes growing on a dark, lofty mountain, whose crests are suddenly covered with prickly northern frost.

"No, Koshevói, your counsel is not good," said he. "You have not spoken aright. Evidently, you have forgotten that our men captured by the Lyakhs will remain prisoners? Evidently you wish that we should not respect the first holy law of comradeship; that we should leave our brethren to be flayed alive, or to be carried about through the towns and villages after their kazák bodies have been quartered, as was done with the Hetman, and the bravest warriors in the Ukraina. Have not they already blasphemed sufficiently against the holy things without that? What are we? I ask you all, what sort of a kazák would he be who should desert his comrade in misfortune, and let him perish like a dog in a foreign land? If it has come to such a pass that no one has any confidence in kazák honour, permitting himself to spit upon his grey moustache, and upbraid him with offensive words, then no one will blame me. I will remain here alone."

All the Zaporozhtzi then who stood there wavered.

"And have you forgotten, brave colonel," said the Koshevói, "that the Tatárs also have our comrades in their hands; that if we do not rescue them now, they will be sold into everlasting captivity among the infidels, which is worse than the most cruel death? Have you forgotten that they now hold all our treasure, won by Christian blood?"

All the kazáks pondered, and knew not what to say. None of them wished to merit disgraceful renown. Then there stepped out in front of them the oldest in years of all the Zaporozhian army, Kasyan Bovdyug. He was respected by all the kazáks. Twice had he been elected Koshevói, and he had also been a very brave kazák in the wars: but he had long been old, and had been upon no expeditions, neither did the old man like to give advice to any one ; but he loved to lie constantly on his side in the circle of kazáks, listening to the tale of every occurrence on the kazák marches. He never joined in the conversation, but merely listened, and with his finger pressed the ashes down in the short pipe which never left his mouth; and then he would sit long, with his eyes half open, and the kazáks never knew whether he were asleep or still listening. He always stayed at home during their expeditions, but on this occasion, the whim to take part had seized upon the old man. He waved his hand, in kazák fashion, and said, "So be it! I'm going also; perhaps I may be of some service to the kazák nation." All the kazáks fell silent when he now stepped forward before the assembly, for it was long since any speech from him had been heard. Each man wanted to know what Bovdyug had to say.

"It's my turn to speak a word, brother nobles," he began: "listen, my lads, to an old man. The Koshevói spoke wisely, and as the head of the Kazák army, and bound to protect it; and regretting the treasures of the army, he could have said nothing wiser. That's a fact I That's my first speech. And now harken to my second—and this is my second speech: Colonel Taras has spoken even more truly, God grant him many years, and that such colonels as he may be plentiful in the Ukralna! The first duty and the first honour of a kazák is to uphold comradeship. Never in all my life, brother nobles, have I heard of any kazák deserting or selling any of his comrades. The men there and the men here are equally our comrades, whether they be few or many, and all are dear to us. So this is my speech: Let those to whom the prisoners captured by the Tatárs are dear, set out after the Tatárs; and let those to whom the captives of the Poles are dear, and who do not wish to desert a righteous cause, stay be- hind. The Koshevói, in accordance with his duty, will accompany one half in pursuit of the Tatárs, and the other half may choose a temporary atamán to lead them. But if you will heed the words of an old man, there is no one more fit to act as temporary atamán than Taras Bulba. Not one of us is his equal in valour."

Thus spoke Bovdyug, and paused; and all the kazáks rejoiced that the old man had, in this manner, set them to rights. All tossed up their caps, and shouted: "Thanks, batko!^[1] He has been silent,—silent for a long time, but he has spoken at last. Not in vain did he say, when we were preparing for this expedition, that he might be useful to the kazák nation: even so has it come to pass!"

"Well, are you agreed upon anything?" asked the Koshevói.

"We are!" shouted the kazáks.

"Then the Council is at an end?"

"It is!" shouted the kazáks.

"Then listen to the military command, my lads," said the Koshevói, stepping forward, and putting on his cap; and all the kazáks took off their caps, and stood with heads uncovered and eyes fixed upon the earth, as was always the custom among the kazáks when the leader prepared to speak. "Now divide yourselves, brother nobles! Let those who wish to go take their stand on the right, and those who wish to stay on the left. Where the majority of a kurén goes, there the rest are to go; if a minority of a kurén goes over, it must be added to another kurén."

And they began to take up their positions, some on the right, some on the left. Whither the majority of a kurén went, there the atamán went also; and where there was a minority, the kurén attached itself to another kurén; and it came out pretty even on both sides. Those who wished to remain were nearly the whole of the Nezamaikovsky kurén, the larger half of the Popovichevsky kurén, the entire Umansky kurén, the entire Kanevsky kurén, and the larger half of the Steblikivsky and Timoshevsky kuréns. All the rest offered to go in pursuit of the Tatárs. On both sides were many stalwart and valorous kazáks. Among those who decided to pursue the Tatárs were Cherevaty, and the good old kazáks, Pokotypole, Lemish, and Khoma Prokopovich. Demid Popovich also went in that party, because he was a kazák of a very restless disposition, and he could not stay still long in one place: he had tried his hand on the Lyakhs, and now wanted to try it on the Tatárs also. The atamáns of kuréns were Nostyugan, Pokryshka, Nevynsky, any many other brave and renowned kazáks who wished to put their swords and their brawny shoulders to the test in an encounter with the Tatárs. There were, likewise, very brave kazáks not a few among those who elected to remain: the kurén atamáns Demytrovich, Kukubenko, Vertykhvist, Balan, and Bulba's Ostap. Besides these there were many valiant and distinguished kazáks: Vovtuzenko, Cherevychenko, Stepan Guska, Okhrim Guska, Mykola Gustyi, Zodorozhnii, Metelitza, Ivan Zakrutyguba, Mosii Shilo, Degtyarenko, Sydorenko, Pisarenko, a second Pisarenko, and still another Pisarenko, and many other good kazáks. All of them had had great experience and had travelled far and wide; they had been on the shores of Anatolia, on the salt marshes and the steppes of the Crimea, on all the rivers, great and small which empty into the Dnyeper, and on all the fords and islands of the Dnyeper: they had been in Moldavia, Valakhia, and the Turkish land; they had sailed all over the Black Sea in their double-ruddered kazák boats; they had attacked with fifty skiffs in line the tallest and richest ships; they had sunk many a Turkish galley, and had burned much, very much powder in their day; more than once had they torn up velvets and rich stuffs of cotton and silk for foot-wrappers; many a time had they beaten out buckles for the straps which confined their full trousers, from the sequins of pure gold. And every one of them had drunk up and revelled away as much as would have sufficed any other man for a whole lifetime, and there was nothing to show for it. They had squandered it all, like kazáks, in treating all the world, and in hiring music so that every one might be merry. Even now rare was the man among them who had not some property: tankards, silver porringers, bracelets, buried under the reeds on the islands of the Dnyeper in order that the Tatárs might not find them if, in case of disaster, they should succeed in making a sudden attack on the Syech; but it would have been difficult for a Tatár to find them, for the owner himself was already beginning to forget where he had buried them. Such were the kazáks who wished to remain and take vengeance on the Lyakhs for their trusty comrades and the Faith of Christ! The aged kazák Bovdyug also wished to remain with them, saying: "My years do not permit me to pursue the Tatárs, but this is the place where I may lie down in a good kazák death. Long have I prayed to God that when my life was to end, I might end it in a war for a holy and Christian cause. And so it has come to pass. There can be no more glorious end in any other place for the old kazák."

When they had all separated, and had ranged themselves in two lines on opposite sides, the Koshevói passed through the ranks, and said: "Well, brother nobles, are the two parties satisfied with each other?"

"Yes, all satisfied, batko!" replied the kazáks.

"Then kiss one another, and say good-bye; for God knows whether you will ever see each other again in this life. Obey your Atamán, and do what your duty bids you. You yourselves know what kazák honour commands."

And all the kazáks began to exchange kisses. The atamáns were the first to begin: stroking down their grey moustaches, they kissed each other in cross-form, then grasping each other's hands, and squeezing them firmly, each wanted to say to the other: "Well, Sir brother, shall we meet again or not?" But they did not ask the question: they kept silent, and both greyheads speculated on the future. Then the kazáks took leave of one another, to the last man, knowing well that both parties had a great deal of work before them. But they were not obliged to part at once,—they had to wait until dark night, in order that the enemy might not notice the diminution in the kazák army. Then they all went off, by kuréns, to dine.

After dinner, all who had the journey before them lay down to rest, and fell into a deep and long sleep, as though foreseeing that it was, perhaps, the last sleep they would taste in such freedom. They slept even until sunset; and when the sun had gone down, and twilight had descended to a certain degree, they began to grease their carts. When everything was in readiness, they sent the wagons on ahead, and having doffed their caps once more to their comrades, they quickly followed the transports. The cavalry, with dignity, without shouts or whistling at the horses, tramped lightly after the foot-soldiers; and all speedily vanished in the darkness. The only sound was the dull thud of horses' hoofs, or the creaking of some wheel which had not got into working order, or had not been properly greased, because of the darkness of the night.

Their comrades stood for a long time waving their hands to them from afar, though nothing could be seen. But when they returned to their places, when they perceived, by the light of the brightly gleaming stars, that half the carts were gone, and many, many of their comrades, then every man's heart grew sad; and all involuntarily became pensive, and their pleasure-loving heads drooped towards the earth.

Taras saw how troubled the kazáks had become, and that sadness, unfitting for brave men, had begun quietly to overmaster their heads; but he remained silent. He wished to give them all time to become accustomed to the melancholy caused by their parting from their comrades; but meantime, he was quietly preparing to arouse them suddenly, and all at once, by a loud war-whoop, in kazák fashion, in order that there might return afresh, and with greater strength than before, to the soul of each, that valour of which only the Slav race—a broad and powerful race,—which is to others what the sea is to shallow rivers,—is capable. In stormy times it turns all to roaring and thunder, raging and raising such waves as weak rivers cannot throw up; but when it is windless and quiet, clearer than any river it spreads its boundless, glassy surface, a constant delight to the eye.

And Taras ordered his servitors to unload one of the wagons which stood apart from the rest. It was larger and stronger than any other in the kazák camp; stout, double tires encircled its huge wheels. It was heavily laden, covered with horse-cloths and strong wolf-skins, and firmly bound with tightly-drawn, tarred ropes. In the wagon were flasks and casks of good, old wine, which had lain long in Taras's cellars. He had brought it along as a reserve, to celebrate some occasion, in case a grand moment should arrive, when there awaited them some deed worthy of being handed down to posterity, so that each kazák, to the very last man, might quaff the forbidden liquor and be inspired with a grand sentiment befitting the grand moment. On receiving their Colonel's command the servants hastened to the wagon, hewed the stout ropes with their swords, removed the thick wolf-skins and horse-cloths, and drew forth the flasks and casks.

"Take it, all of you," said Bulba, "all of you, no matter how many there are, take it in whatever you have, a ladle or a bucket for watering the horses; or your sleeve, or your cap; but if you have nothing else, then simply hold your two fists under."

And all the kazáks seized something: one took a ladle, another a horse-bucket, another a sleeve, another a cap, and still another held out both his hands. Taras's servants, making their way among the ranks, poured out for all, from the casks and flasks. But Taras ordered them not to drink until he should give the signal for all to drink together. It was evident that he wished to say something. Taras knew that, no matter how strong in itself the good old wine might be, and however fitted to strengthen the spirit of man, yet if a suitable speech were linked with it, then the strength of the wine and of the spirit would be doubly great.

"I treat you, sir brothers!" thus spoke Bulba, "not in honour of your having made me your atamán, great as that honour is, nor to celebrate our parting from our comrades. No; both these would be fitting at a different time, but not such is the present moment. The work before us is great in labour, and in glory for the kazáks! Let us, therefore, comrades, drink all together,—let us drink, before all else, to the Holy Orthodox Faith, that the day may come, at last, when it may be spread over all the world, and that everywhere there may be but one Faith, and that all Mussulmans may become Christians! And let us drink also, all together, to the Syech, that it may stand long for the destruction of the Mussulmans, that each year there may issue forth from it young men, each better, each handsomer, than the other. And let us also drink, all together, to our own glory, that our grandsons and the sons of those grandsons may say that there once were men who were not ashamed of comradeship, and who never betrayed one another. Now—to the Faith, sir brothers, to the Faith!"

"To the Faith!" shouted, with thick voices, those who were standing in the near-by ranks. "To the Faith!" those more distant took up the cry,—and all, both young and old, drank to the Faith.

"To the Syech!" said Taras, raising his hand high above his head.

"To the Syech!" echoed the foremost ranks. "To the Syech!" said the old men softly, twitching their grey moustaches; and eagerly as young hawks the youths repeated: "To the Syech!" And the distant plain heard how the kazáks commemorated their Syech.

"Now, a last draught, comrades, to the glory of all Christians now living in the world!"

And every kazák drank a last draught to the glory of all Christians in the world. And among the ranks, in all the kuréns, they long repeated: "For all the Christians in the world!"

The ladles^[2] were empty, but the kazáks still stood with their hands uplifted. Although the eyes of all gleamed cheerily with the liquor, all were thinking deeply. Not of greed or of the spoils of war were they thinking now, nor of which of them would be lucky enough to acquire ducats, fine weapons, embroidered kaftans and Cherkessian horses; but they were meditating like eagles perched upon the rocky crests of lofty, precipitous mountains, from which, far away, the boundless sea is visible, dotted, as with tiny birds, with galleys, ships, and every sort of vessel, confined at the sides by scarcely visible, thin lines of shore with their sea-coast cities like gnats, and their bending forests like short grass. Like eagles they gazed about them over all the plain, and at their Fate darkling in the distance. It will come, all the plain, with its waste lands and its road-tracks will be covered with their white, protruding bones, lavishly washed with their kazák blood, and strewn with shattered wagons and splintered swords and spears: far afield will be strewn the scalp-locked heads, with downward-drooping moustaches; the eagles will swoop down, and tear out their kazák eyes. But there is great good in this so widely and boldly broadcast bivouac of death! Not a single magnanimous deed will perish, and the kazák glory will not be lost, like a tiny grain of powder from a gun-barrel. He will come, the bandura-player with grey beard falling upon his breast will come, and perhaps the old man still full of ripe, manly strength, though his head is white with years, eloquent by the spirit, will utter ringing, mighty words of them. And their glory shall resound through all the world, and all who shall be born thereafter shall speak of them; for the word of power is borne afar, reverberating like a booming, brazen bell, in which the maker has mingled much pure silver, that its beautiful sound may be wafted far and wide through cities, huts, palaces and villages, summoning all men, without exception, to hold orisons.

1. Batko is the Little Russian form of batiushka, and means "father" in the same way that the old English gaffer, derived from grandfather, was used as a term of respect. All priests are addressed as "batiushka," and a priest's wife is addressed and alluded to as the corresponding, "matushka"; and the two words are (as Count L. N. Tolstoy once said to me) "the only genuine Russian 'titles.'" Nevertheless, if one were to translate the two words as "father" and "mother," Russians would wax hilarious; and as we do not use "gaffer" in America, and have no corresponding term of affectionate respect, readers must accept "batko" and this explanation. I. F. H.
2. The kovsh, a vessel for drinking or for ladling liquids, resembles in form, somewhat, the old-fashioned porringer. I. F. H.