WINTRY WEATHER was already setting in, the morning frosts hardened the earth drenched by the autumn rains. Already the grass was full of tufts, and stood out bright green against the patches of brown winter cornland trodden by the cattle, and the pale yellow stubble of the summer cornfields, and the reddish strips of buckwheat. The uplands and copses, which at the end of August had still been green islands among the black fields ploughed ready for winter corn, and the stubble had become golden and lurid red islands in a sea of bright green autumn crops. The grey hare had already half-changed its coat, the foxes' cubs were beginning to leave their parents, and the young wolves were bigger than dogs. It was the best time of the year for the chase. The dogs of an ardent young sportsman like Rostov were only just coming into fit state for hunting, so that at a common council of the huntsmen it was decided to give the dogs three days' rest, and on the 16th of September to go off on a hunting expedition, beginning with Dubravy, where there was a litter of wolves that had never been hunted.

Such was the position of affairs on the 14th of September.

All that day the dogs were kept at home. It was keen and frosty weather, but towards evening the sky clouded over and it began to thaw. On the morning of the 15th of September when young Rostov in his dressing-gown looked out of window he saw a morning which was all the heart could desire for hunting. It looked as though the sky were melting, and without the slightest wind, sinking down upon the earth. The only movement in the air was the soft downward motion of microscopic drops of moisture or mist. The bare twigs in the garden were hung with transparent drops which dripped on to the freshly fallen leaves. The earth in the kitchen-garden had a gleaming, wet, black look like the centre of a poppy, and at a short distance away it melted off into the damp, dim veil of fog.

Nikolay went out on to the wet and muddy steps. There was a smell of decaying leaves and dogs. The broad-backed, black and tan bitch Milka, with her big, prominent, black eyes, caught sight of her master, got up, stretched out her hindlegs, lay down like a hare, then suddenly jumped up and licked him right on his nose and moustache. Another harrier, catching sight of his master from the bright coloured path, arched its back, darted headlong to the steps, and, lifting its tail, rubbed itself against Nikolay's legs.

“O, hoy!” He heard at that moment the inimitable hunting halloo which unites the deepest bass and the shrillest tenor notes. And round the corner came the huntsman and whipper-in, Danilo, a grey, wrinkled man, with his hair cropped round in the Ukrainian fashion. He held a bent whip in his hand, and his face had that expression of independence and scorn for everything in the world, which is only to be seen in huntsmen. He took off his Circassian cap to his master and looked scornfully at him. That scorn was not offensive to his master. Nikolay knew that this Danilo, disdainful of all, and superior to everything, was still his man and his huntsman.

“Danilo,” said Nikolay, at the sight of this hunting weather, those dogs, and the huntsman, feeling shyly that he was being carried away by that irresistible sporting passion in which a man forgets all his previous intentions, like a man in love at the sight of his mistress.

“What is your bidding, your excellency?” asked a bass voice, fit for a head deacon, and hoarse from hallooing, and a pair of flashing black eyes glanced up from under their brows at the silent young master. “Surely you can't resist it?” those two eyes seemed to be asking.

“It's a good day, eh? Just right for riding and hunting, eh?” said Nikolay, scratching Milka behind the ears.

Danilo winked and made no reply.

“I sent Uvarka out to listen at daybreak,” his bass boomed out after a moment's silence. “He brought word she's moved into the Otradnoe enclosure; there was howling there.” (“She's moved” meant that the mother wolf, of whom both knew, had moved with her cubs into the Otradnoe copse, which was a small hunting preserve about two versts away.)

“Shouldn't we go, eh?” said Nikolay. “Come to me with Uvarka.”

“As you desire.”

“Then put off feeding them.”

“Yes, sir!”

Five minutes later Danilo and Uvarka were standing in Nikolay's big study. Although Danilo was not tall, to see him in a room gave one an impression such as one has on seeing a horse or bear standing on the floor among the furniture and surroundings of human life. Danilo felt this himself, and as usual he kept close to the door and tried to speak more softly, and not to move for fear of causing some breakage in the master's apartments. He did his utmost to get everything said quickly so as to get as soon as might be out into the open again, from under a ceiling out under the sky.

After making inquiries and extracting from Danilo an admission that the dogs were fit (Danilo himself was longing to go), Nikolay told them to have the horses saddled. But just as Danilo was about to go, Natasha, wrapped in a big shawl of her old nurse's, ran into the room, not yet dressed, and her hair in disorder. Petya ran in with her.

“Are you going?” said Natasha. “I knew you would! Sonya said you weren't going. I knew that on such a day you couldn't help going!”

“Yes, we're going,” Nikolay answered reluctantly. As he meant to attempt serious hunting he did not want to take Natasha and Petya. “We are going, but only wolf-hunting; it will be dull for you.”

“You know that it's the greatest of my pleasures,” said Natasha. “It's too bad—he's going himself, has ordered the horses out and not a word to us.”

“No hindrance bars a Russian's path!” declaimed Petya; “let's go!”

“But you mustn't, you know; mamma said you were not to,” said Nikolay to Natasha.

“No, I'm going, I must go,” said Natasha stoutly. “Danilo, bid them saddle my horse, and tell Mihailo to come with my leash,” she said to the huntsman.

Simply to be in a room seemed irksome and unfitting to Danilo, but to have anything to do with a young lady he felt to be utterly impossible. He cast down his eyes and made haste to get away, making as though it were no affair of his, and trying to avoid accidentally doing some hurt to the young lady.

那时已是初寒时节，早晨的严寒封住了被秋雨淋得乌黑油亮的土地，秋播作物的幼苗长得茂盛，一条条被牲口踩得变成褐色的越冬麦地、淡黄色的春播作物的麦庄和红色的荞麦地，和那茂密的秋播作物分隔开来，呈现着一片绿油油的颜色。八月底，群山的顶峰和树林在秋播作物的黑土田地和麦庄之间犹如绿色的孤林，这时在鲜绿的越冬作物中间，已经变成金光闪闪的和鲜红的孤林。灰兔的毛已经落了一半（正在换毛），一窝窝的小狐狸也开始向四面八方走去，小豺狼已经长得比狗更大了。这是狩猎的最佳时节。热衷于狩猎的年轻猎人罗斯托夫的猎犬，不仅长了膘，而且获得了信任，于是猎人全会上决定让猎犬休息三天，九月十六日远行，这次狩猎从橡树林开始，因为林中有一个未被惊动的狼窝。

九月十四日的情况是这样的。

猎犬整天呆在家中，天气很冷，寒风刺骨，但从傍晚起天空布满乌云，暖和起来了。九月十五日清早，年轻的罗斯托夫披上了一件长衫，向窗外望望，他一眼望见，比这天早上更适宜于狩猎的天气是没有的了：天空好像在融化，风停了，天幕向地面拉下来。在空气中移动的唯有尘雾或者是晨雾中悄悄落下的细微的水珠。花园中光秃秃的树枝上挂着透明的水珠。滴在刚刚落下的叶子上。菜园的土地犹如罂粟，非常润湿，变得更黑而有光泽，在不远的距离以内，和阴沉而潮湿的雾幕融成一片了。尼古拉走上被雨淋湿的污泥满地的台阶，这里发散着枯萎的树木和猎犬的气味。那只黑腿的臀部宽大的母犬米尔卡，睁开它那乌黑的凸出的大眼睛，一看见主人便站起来，向后伸了个懒腰，像只灰兔似的躺在那里，然后突然一跃而起，对准他的鼻子和胡髭舔了一下。另外一只牡灵狸在花园中的一条小路上看见了主人，把背弓起来，向台阶飞也似的奔去，它翘起尾巴，开始蹭那尼古拉的腿。

“好啊。”这时候可以听见无可模拟的猎人的呼唤声，呼噜声中既含有最深沉的男低音，又含有最尖细的男高音。猎犬训练管理人和狩猎长丹尼洛从墙角走出来了，他头发苍白，满面皱纹，剪了个乌克兰式的童化头，手里执着一根短柄长鞭，流露出一副唯独猎人才有的独立活动和蔑视尘世中一切的表情。他在老爷面前摘下切尔克斯高顶帽，鄙夷地向他望了一眼。他这种轻视的神情没有使老爷觉得受侮辱，尼古拉晓得，这个藐视一切的高踞于一切的丹尼洛，毕竟是他的仆役和猎人。

“丹尼洛！”尼古拉说，畏葸地觉得，在他看见这种狩猎的天气、这些猎犬和猎人时，一种难以克服的狩猎的欲望支配着他，就像一个钟情的男人在他的情妇面前竟会忘怀原有的各种打算一样。

“大人，有什么吩咐？”他用那副由于呼唤猎犬追捕野兽而嘶哑的嗓子，发出执事长的男低音，问道，他皱着眉头并用两只闪闪发言的乌黑眼睛看了看默不作声的老爷。“怎么，顶不住了吗？”这两只眼睛仿佛在说。

“好日子，是吗？追捕野兽，跑一趟，好吗？”尼古拉用手搔着米尔卡的耳根，说道。

丹尼洛不回答，眨了眨眼睛。

“天拂晓时，我派了乌瓦尔卡出去打听一下，”沉默片刻后他用那男低音说道，“他说过，母狼迁移了，迁到奥特拉德诺耶禁伐区去了，还在那里不住地嗥叫。（迁移所指的就是他们二人都知道的那只母狼和几只狼仔迁进了奥特拉德诺耶森林，这座林子离家有两俄里之遥，这是一片范围不大的林地。）”

“那就应当到那里去，是不是？”尼古拉说，“你跟乌瓦尔卡一同到我这里来。”

“随您吩咐，好吧！”

“等一会儿再喂猎狗吧。”

“是的。”

隔了五分钟丹尼洛和乌瓦尔卡站在尼古拉的一间大书斋中。尽管丹尼洛的个子不很大，但是在这个房间看见他，欲会给人造成这样一种印象，如同你看见一匹马或是一头狗熊站在家具和人类生活所必需的设备之间的地板上。丹尼洛本人也有这样的感觉，像平常一样，他站在紧靠房门的地方，尽量低声地说话，不移动脚步，以免打破老爷的安静，他想尽量快地把话说完，走到广阔的户外去，从天花板底下走到露天地里去。

尼古拉问完了话，并从丹尼洛那儿打听到猎犬都还不错（丹尼洛本人也想动身了），于是他吩咐备马。但是丹尼洛刚刚想要走出去，娜塔莎就迈着急促的脚步走进房里来，她没有梳头，也没有穿好衣裳，只披着保姆的一件大连衣裙，彼佳和她一起跑进来了。

“你要去吗？”娜塔莎说，“我还是知道！索尼娅说你们是去不成的。我晓得，今天这样的日子非去不可了。”

“我们要去了，”尼古拉不乐意地回答，他打算认真地打一次猎，今天他不想把娜塔莎和彼佳带在身边。“我们要去了，可是要猎获的只是豺狼；你会感到枯燥无味的。”

“你知道，这是我的最大的乐趣，”娜塔莎说，“这很不妙，他本人要去猎狼，吩咐人家备马，可是他不向我们吐露半句话。”

“俄国人不可阻挡，我们去吧！”彼佳喊道。

“你本来就不能去，妈妈不是说你不能去么。”尼古拉把脸转向娜塔莎说。

“不，我要去，我一定要去，”娜塔莎坚决地说，“丹尼洛，吩咐给我们备马，要米哈伊尔把我的一群猎犬带去好了。”她把脸转向狩猎长说。

丹尼洛觉得他呆在房里有点儿失礼，很难受，但是对他来说，要和小姐打交道岂非一件不可思议的事。他垂下眼帘，赶快走出来，好像这件事与他无关，总得想个啥法子，省得无意中伤害小姐。