Part 40 (2/2)

”That's bad!... He won't drink vodka,” Buza cried in Russian. ”They will go for one another presently!... Hey! be off! You won't take vodka from the gentleman himself? Who do you think you are? I will call the Cossacks directly! Do you behave like this in a gentleman's house? And it's not long since you were entertained here! You tundra dog! I will have you taken up at once. Ha, ha! don't try it on me! You know who I am. Let me go by at once; I will go and call the guard. But you keep him talking here,” he whispered to Stefan.

He turned towards the entrance, but retreated immediately, for Kituwia started forward, and the dangerous quiver of his lips showed his large white teeth. In a moment the room was in an uproar. Stefan, Buza, and Kituwia, surrounded by struggling Chukchee, burst through the door, which opened with a crash, and into the hall. Stefan lay with his chest on Kituwia's chest; the native struggled beneath him and tried unsuccessfully to free his hand. Stefan was thus able to seize him by the throat. Kituwia choked and shook his head until he became exhausted. Someone broke the strap on his neck with a jerk, and a large broad-bladed knife flew jingling into a corner. Buza, in the street, called for the Cossacks, and a large crowd of people came on to the scene. Stefan and Jzef were now, in their turn, obliged to defend the enfeebled Kituwia from the Chukchee's rage. At last twenty-five Cossacks appeared; the a.s.sailant was arrested and led off to prison, the crowd following him with insults.

”You'll have a nice time!... A nice look-out for you!... You'll get thirty such good lashes you won't want to sit down for a year to come!... You'll remember what it is to come here with a knife!...

Perhaps you still want to butcher us all?... Ah, you are short-handed now! Times have changed!”

The warrior looked at them fiercely and shrugged his bound shoulders.

”What is it all about?” Stefan and Jzef asked Buza.

”Who knows anything about them?” he answered with indifference.

”Anyhow, they are drunk.”

”No, no; that's not it,” a fisherman remarked. ”It's an old quarrel that has come down to them from their forefathers, and now they say it's about Otowaka's daughter-in-law, Kituwia's own sister. Young Aimurgin stole her. That's long ago, and they now have children, but ... what memories these fellows have! I expect the old man paid a good sum, for he was willing to make it up, but Kituwia never would.

They say that he had been living with his sister ... they aren't baptized--though those who are often do the same. So Kituwia wanted to take the woman away; but Otowaka certainly could not allow that, or he would have had no peace on the tundra.”

Buza became the hero of the hour, and received frequent invitations to supper. After vodka, but not before, he related in detail what had happened:

”They were all drinking together and enjoying themselves. They were playing the District Administrator's barrel organ and dancing--even Otowaka himself was stamping his foot.... It would certainly have ended badly if I hadn't seized him, for I saw him put his hand on his neck.”

”You'll catch it from him! He'll pay you out for this! You know him.”

”How can he pay me out? I walk along the street quite openly; he had better be careful himself. He has been sent away from the town. When I see him I'll collar him at once and put him in prison. He had better look out. For if he comes my way ... by G.o.d!... I'll knock him down--I'll just knock him down! Don't let him forget! Why should I be particular about a brigand like that, when Otowaka himself offers me his friends.h.i.+p?”

Otowaka remained near the town for some time longer, but was rarely seen. Jzef and Stefan visited him in his encampment, where he received them in an exceptionally friendly manner. He did not offer them his daughters, but wished to give them a place of honour above even the missionary, whom, together with Buza, he often entertained in recollection of his son's adventure. The friends would not agree to this, and thus won Father Pantelay's favour for all time, drawing from him golden words on the humility which wins a man heaven.

”I am urging him to seek the Divine grace and be baptized,” he said, looking towards the old Chukchee....

They were offered dessert--frozen reindeer marrow, chopped fine and arranged in small heaps--which, being hard, was moistened with a plentiful supply of vodka, as may be imagined. ”It would be safer for him to be baptized. He could encamp on the western tundra.”

”Well, is he willing?”

”He doesn't refuse, but says that he will see.”

Before they left, the rich man presented each guest with a foxskin, and begged him to be so kind as to visit him on the tundra.

”There I am in my right place; that's my own country.”

Jzef's eyes sparkled.

”What do you think--can we go, Father?” he asked the missionary when they reached home.

Father Pantelay was in a very good temper.

”Perhaps we shall go.... If only he would be baptized! So many souls would be saved, for he rules the whole family.”

”Oh, he is sure to be baptized. If we go there, he will be baptized out of sheer hospitality to us. Besides, we can take him presents.

Here it's different, and nothing will come of it.”

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