Part 18 (1/2)

'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 pa.s.sed,--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 pa.s.sed. 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 s.h.i.+ning 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.

'Something like a storm pa.s.sed over me; but when I regained consciousness I had not a single reindeer left;--Tumara was a poor man.'

The speaker was silent, waved his hand, and starting to his feet, stood with bowed head, and an expression of pain on his face. The young men in the audience also stood up; but the old men did not stir from their seats, and fixing their eyes on the speaker, waited for the continuation of the story.

'Well,--and then--?'

Tumara raised his head and began to speak, but at that moment his look fell beyond the edge of the circle and became absorbed in the distance, his face showed astonishment, his lips trembled, and tears rolled from his eyes. Everyone at once turned in the same direction.

At some distance from the fire, and leaning against the back of a reindeer as white as milk, stood a grey-headed Tungus in the old-time national costume. Behind him, holding a riding-reindeer by the bridle, was a young boy resembling him in face and dress.

'Seltichan!' they all cried, 'you have come at last,--you!--our father! We thought that you had forsaken us, who are dying! What news?

What have you heard and seen beyond the mountains? How fare the people of Memel? Are they living still? Or are they, perhaps, also drawing their last breath, as we are? And you, our leader, what do you mean to do? Have you come alone, or with all your people? Are you going back to the mountains? Or are you going to the coast?' The questions came pouring out.

Giving the bridle to his son, Seltichan joined the circle round the fire, and greeted everyone singly by a shake of the hand. He sat down beside the Kniaz,[20] dressed like a Yakut, who hastily made room for him. Then, pulling a small Chinese pipe out of his tobacco-pouch, he filled it slowly. The group became silent, and sat down again.

'It is now two months since the plague reached its height,' the old man answered in a calm, grave voice. 'The people of Memel have dispersed terrified and fled to the coast, but by different ways, in order to avoid the dangerous place. You need not expect them here. But my camp will arrive this evening.'

'Ah! Seltichan, who would ever doubt that you would come? You are wise, you are daring, you, we know, fear nothing!' the Kniaz cried, stretching out his hand towards his neighbour's lighted pipe.

A shadow stole over the old man's face.

'No one can escape his fate,' he replied coldly.

'But you were born to happiness, Seltichan! Does not the G.o.d love you?

When whole herds were dying everywhere, did you not merely lose a young calf?'

Again a cloud came over the old man's face.

'He loves me because I keep the ancient customs. My welfare does not spring from human tears, but the mountains, the rocks, the woods, and water bring it me,' the old man remarked drily.

His hearers caught up his words.

'Yes, indeed! Your hand was open; you supported your people in the day of disaster, and shared in it.'

'Yet who can help more easily than you?' said the Kniaz. 'What can I give, for example, I, who have only goods for sale, and debts? Should I distribute my debts in these hard times? It is true, I have nothing against that! Yet I too am a Tungus;--what would anyone gain from my accursed debts? They don't breed reindeer,' he ended, laughing.

'Yes, indeed! We should die without you, Seltichan! Who supports us?

Whose herds are larger than yours? Who has a better heart? What family is more distinguished and richer? Whose sons are more skilled shots, and finer huntsmen? Whose daughters, when grown-up, most attract our youths? Are you not the first among us,--you who neither suffer nor fear, never lie, and never deceive as we do, and bow to your fate?

You, Seltichan! And to whom shall we go, if you will not have pity on us?' came from all sides.

'The G.o.d knows, I will share with you! That is why I am here!' the old man answered, touched.