MICHAEL’S fear of meeting the Tartars in the plains beyond the Baraba was by no means ungrounded. The fields, trodden down by horses’ hoofs1, afforded but too clear evidence that their hordes2 had passed that way; the same, indeed, might be said of these barbarians3 as of the Turks: “Where the Turk goes, no grass grows.”
Michael saw at once that in traversing this country the greatest caution was necessary. Wreaths of smoke curling upwards4 on the horizon showed that huts and hamlets were still burning. Had these been fired by the advance guard, or had the Emir’s army already advanced beyond the boundaries of the province? Was Feofar-Khan himself in the government of Yeniseisk? Michael could settle on no line of action until these questions were answered. Was the country so deserted5 that he could not discover a single Siberian to enlighten him?
Michael rode on for two versts without meeting a human being. He looked carefully for some house which had not been deserted. Every one was tenantless6.
One hut, however, which he could just see between the trees, was still smoking. As he approached he perceived, at some yards from the ruins of the building, an old man surrounded by weeping children. A woman still young, evidently his daughter and the mother of the poor children, kneeling on the ground, was gazing on the scene of desolation. She had at her breast a baby but a few months old; shortly she would have not even that nourishment7 to give it. Ruin and desolation were all around!
Michael approached the old man.
“Will you answer me a few questions?” he asked.
“Speak,” replied the old man.
“Have the Tartars passed this way?”
“Yes, for my house is in flames.”
“Was it an army or a detachment?”
“An army, for, as far as eye can reach, our fields are laid waste.”
“Commanded by the Emir?”
“By the Emir; for the Obi’s waters are red.”
“Has Feofar-Khan entered Tomsk?”
“He has.”
“Do you know if his men have entered Kolyvan?”
“No; for Kolyvan does not yet burn.”
“Thanks, friend. Can I aid you and yours?”
“No.”
“Good-by.”
“Farewell.”
And Michael, having presented five and twenty roubles to the unfortunate woman, who had not even strength to thank him, put spurs to his horse once more.
One thing he knew; he must not pass through Tomsk. To go to Kolyvan, which the Tartars had not yet reached, was possible. Yes, that is what he must do; there he must prepare himself for another long stage. There was nothing for it but, having crossed the Obi, to take the Irkutsk road and avoid Tomsk.
This new route decided8 on, Michael must not delay an instant. Nor did he, but, putting his horse into a steady gallop9, he took the road towards the left bank of the Obi, which was still forty versts distant. Would there be a ferry boat there, or should he, finding that the Tartars had destroyed all the boats, be obliged to swim across?
As to his horse, it was by this time pretty well worn out, and Michael intended to make it perform this stage only, and then to exchange it for a fresh one at Kolyvan. Kolyvan would be like a fresh starting point, for on leaving that town his journey would take a new form. So long as he traversed a devastated10 country the difficulties must be very great; but if, having avoided Tomsk, he could r?sum? the road to Irkutsk across the province of Yeniseisk, which was not yet laid waste, he would finish his journey in a few days.
Night came on, bringing with it refreshing11 coolness after the heat of the day. At midnight the steppe was profoundly dark. The sound of the horses’s hoofs alone was heard on the road, except when, every now and then, its master spoke12 a few encouraging words. In such darkness as this great care was necessary lest he should leave the road, bordered by pools and streams, tributaries13 of the Obi. Michael therefore advanced as quickly as was consistent with safety. He trusted no less to the excellence14 of his eyes, which penetrated15 the gloom, than to the well-proved sagacity of his horse.
Just as Michael dismounted to discover the exact direction of the road, he heard a confused murmuring sound from the west. It was like the noise of horses’ hoofs at some distance on the parched16 ground. Michael listened attentively17, putting his ear to the ground.
“It is a detachment of cavalry18 coming by the road from Omsk,” he said to himself. “They are marching very quickly, for the noise is increasing. Are they Russians or Tartars?”
Michael again listened. “Yes,” said he, “they are at a sharp trot19. My horse cannot outstrip20 them. If they are Russians I will join them; if Tartars I must avoid them. But how? Where can I hide in this steppe?”
He gave a look around, and, through the darkness, discovered a confused mass at a hundred paces before him on the left of the road. “There is a copse!” he exclaimed. “To take refuge there is to run the risk of being caught, if they are in search of me; but I have no choice.”
In a few moments Michael, dragging his horse by the bridle21, reached a little larch22 wood, through which the road lay. Beyond this it was destitute23 of trees, and wound among bogs24 and pools, separated by dwarfed26 bushes, whins, and heather. The ground on either side was quite impracticable, and the detachment must necessarily pass through the wood. They were pursuing the high road to Irkutsk. Plunging27 in about forty feet, he was stopped by a stream running under the brushwood. But the shadow was so deep that Michael ran no risk of being seen, unless the wood should be carefully searched. He therefore led his horse to the stream and fastened him to a tree, returning to the edge of the road to listen and ascertain28 with what sort of people he had to do.
Michael had scarcely taken up his position behind a group of larches29 when a confused light appeared, above which glared brighter lights waving about in the shadow.
“Torches!” said he to himself. And he drew quickly back, gliding30 like a savage31 into the thickest underwood.
As they approached the wood the horses’ pace was slackened. The horsemen were probably lighting32 up the road with the intention of examining every turn.
Michael feared this, and instinctively33 drew near to the bank of the stream, ready to plunge34 in if necessary.
Arrived at the top of the wood, the detachment halted. The horsemen dismounted. There were about fifty. A dozen of them carried torches, lighting up the road.
By watching their preparations Michael found to his joy that the detachment were not thinking of visiting the copse, but only bivouacking near, to rest their horses and allow the men to take some refreshment35. The horses were soon unsaddled, and began to graze on the thick grass which carpeted the ground. The men meantime stretched themselves by the side of the road, and partook of the provisions they produced from their knapsacks.
Michael’s self-possession had never deserted him, and creeping amongst the high grass he endeavored not only to examine the new-comers, but to hear what they said. It was a detachment from Omsk, composed of Usbeck horsemen, a race of the Mongolian type. These men, well built, above the medium height, rough, and wild-featured, wore on their heads the “talpak,” or black sheep-skin cap, and on their feet yellow high-heeled boots with turned-up toes, like the shoes of the Middle Ages. Their tunics36 were close-fitting, and confined at the waist by a leathern belt braided with red. They were armed defensively with a shield, and offensively with a curved sword, and a flintlock musket38 slung39 at the saddle-bow. From their shoulders hung gay-colored cloaks.
The horses, which were feeding at liberty at the edge of the wood, were, like their masters, of the Usbeck race. These animals are rather smaller than the Turcomanian horses, but are possessed40 of remarkable41 strength, and know no other pace than the gallop.
This detachment was commanded by a “pendja-baschi”; that is to say, a commander of fifty men, having under him a “deh-baschi,” or simple commander of ten men. These two officers wore helmets and half coats-of-mail; little trumpets42 fastened to their saddle-bows were the distinctive43 signs of their rank.
The pendja-baschi had been obliged to let his men rest, fatigued44 with a long stage. He and the second officer, smoking “beng,” the leaf which forms the base of the “has-chisch,” strolled up and down the wood, so that Michael Strogoff without being seen, could catch and understand their conversation, which was spoken in the Tartar language.
Michael’s attention was singularly excited by their very first words. It was of him they were speaking.
“This courier cannot be much in advance of us,” said the pendja-baschi; “and, on the other hand, it is absolutely impossible that he can have followed any other route than that of the Baraba.”
“Who knows if he has left Omsk?” replied the deh-baschi. “Perhaps he is still hidden in the town.”
“That is to be wished, certainly. Colonel Ogareff would have no fear then that the dispatches he bears should ever reach their destination.”
“They say that he is a native, a Siberian,” resumed the deh-baschi. “If so, he must be well acquainted with the country, and it is possible that he has left the Irkutsk road, depending on rejoining it later.”
“But then we should be in advance of him,” answered the pendja-baschi; “for we left Omsk within an hour after his departure, and have since followed the shortest road with all the speed of our horses. He has either remained in Omsk, or we shall arrive at Tomsk before him, so as to cut him off; in either case he will not reach Irkutsk.”
“A rugged45 woman, that old Siberian, who is evidently his mother,” said the deh-baschi.
At this remark Michael’s heart beat violently.
“Yes,” answered the pendja-baschi. “She stuck to it well that the pretended merchant was not her son, but it was too late. Colonel Ogareff was not to be taken in; and, as he said, he will know how to make the old witch speak when the time comes.”
These words were so many dagger-thrusts for Michael. He was known to be a courier of the Czar! A detachment of horsemen on his track could not fail to cut him off. And, worst of all, his mother was in the hands of the Tartars, and the cruel Ogareff had undertaken to make her speak when he wished!
Michael well knew that the brave Siberian would sacrifice her life for him. He had fancied that he could not hate Ivan Ogareff more, yet a fresh tide of hate now rose in his heart. The wretch46 who had betrayed his country now threatened to torture his mother.
The conversation between the two officers continued, and Michael understood that an engagement was imminent47 in the neighborhood of Kolyvan, between the Muscovite troops coming from the north and the Tartars. A small Russian force of two thousand men, reported to have reached the lower course of the Obi, were advancing by forced marches towards Tomsk. If such was the case, this force, which would soon find itself engaged with the main body of Feofar-Khan’s army, would be inevitably48 overwhelmed, and the Irkutsk road would be in the entire possession of the invaders49.
As to himself, Michael learnt, by some words from the pendja-baschi, that a price was set on his head, and that orders had been given to take him, dead or alive.
It was necessary, therefore, to get the start of the Usbeck horsemen on the Irkutsk road, and put the Obi between himself and them. But to do that, he must escape before the camp was broken up.
His determination taken, Michael prepared to execute it.
Indeed, the halt would not be prolonged, and the pendja-baschi did not intend to give his men more than an hour’s rest, although their horses could not have been changed for fresh ones since Omsk, and must be as much fatigued as that of Michael Strogoff.
There was not a moment to lose. It was within an hour of morning. It was needful to profit by the darkness to leave the little wood and dash along the road; but although night favored it the success of such a flight appeared to be almost impossible.
Not wishing to do anything at random50, Michael took time for reflection, carefully weighing the chances so as to take the best. From the situation of the place the result was this — that he could not escape through the back of the wood, the stream which bordered it being not only deep, but very wide and muddy. Beneath this thick water was a slimy bog25, on which the foot could not rest. There was only one way open, the high-road. To endeavor to reach it by creeping round the edge of the wood, without attracting attention, and then to gallop at headlong speed, required all the remaining strength and energy of his noble steed. Too probably it would fall dead on reaching the banks of the Obi, when, either by boat or by swimming, he must cross this important river. This was what Michael had before him.
His energy and courage increased in sight of danger.
His life, his mission, his country, perhaps the safety of his mother, were at stake. He could not hesitate.
There was not a moment to be lost. Already there was a slight movement among the men of the detachment. A few horsemen were strolling up and down the road in front of the wood. The rest were still lying at the foot of the trees, but their horses were gradually penetrating51 towards the center of the wood.
Michael had at first thought of seizing one of these horses, but he recollected52 that, of course, they would be as fatigued as his own. It was better to trust to his own brave steed, which had already rendered him such important service. The good animal, hidden behind a thicket53, had escaped the sight of the Usbecks. They, besides, had not penetrated so far into the wood.
Michael crawled up to his horse through the grass, and found him lying down. He patted and spoke gently to him, and managed to raise him without noise. Fortunately, the torches were entirely54 consumed, and now went out, the darkness being still profound under shelter of the larches. After replacing the bit, Michael looked to his girths and stirrups, and began to lead his horse quietly away. The intelligent animal followed his master without even making the least neigh.
A few Usbeck horses raised their heads, and began to wander towards the edge of the wood. Michael held his revolver in his hand, ready to blow out the brains of the first Tartar who should approach him. But happily the alarm was not given, and he was able to gain the angle made by the wood where it joined the road.
To avoid being seen, Michael’s intention was not to mount until after turning a corner some two hundred feet from the wood. Unfortunately, just at the moment that he was issuing from the wood, an Usbeck’s horse, scenting55 him, neighed and began to trot along the road. His master ran to catch him, and seeing a shadowy form moving in the dim light, “Look out!” he shouted.
At the cry, all the men of the bivouac jumped up, and ran to seize their horses. Michael leaped on his steed, and galloped56 away. The two officers of the detachment urged on their men to follow.
Michael heard a report, and felt a ball pass through his tunic37. Without turning his head, without replying, he spurred on, and, clearing the brushwood with a tremendous bound, he galloped at full speed toward the Obi.
The Usbecks’ horses being unsaddled gave him a small start, but in less than two minutes he heard the tramp of several horses gradually gaining on him.
Day was now beginning to break, and objects at some distance were becoming visible. Michael turned his head, and perceived a horseman rapidly approaching him. It was the deh-baschi. Being better mounted, this officer had distanced his detachment.
Without drawing rein57, Michael extended his revolver, and took a moment’s aim. The Usbeck officer, hit in the breast, rolled on the ground.
But the other horsemen followed him closely, and without waiting to assist the deh-baschi, exciting each other by their shouts, digging their spurs into their horses’ sides, they gradually diminished the distance between themselves and Michael.
For half an hour only was the latter able to keep out of range of the Tartars, but he well knew that his horse was becoming weaker, and dreaded58 every instant that he would stumble never to rise again.
It was now light, although the sun had not yet risen above the horizon. Two versts distant could be seen a pale line bordered by a few trees.
This was the Obi, which flows from the southwest to the northeast, the surface almost level with the ground, its bed being but the steppe itself.
Several times shots were fired at Michael, but without hitting him, and several times too he discharged his revolver on those of the soldiers who pressed him too closely. Each time an Usbeck rolled on the ground, midst cries of rage from his companions. But this pursuit could only terminate to Michael’s disadvantage. His horse was almost exhausted59. He managed to reach the bank of the river. The Usbeck detachment was now not more than fifty paces behind him.
The Obi was deserted — not a boat of any description which could take him over the water!
“Courage, my brave horse!” cried Michael. “Come! A last effort!” And he plunged60 into the river, which here was half a verst in width.
It would have been difficult to stand against the current — indeed, Michael’s horse could get no footing. He must therefore swim across the river, although it was rapid as a torrent61. Even to attempt it showed Michael’s marvelous courage. The soldiers reached the bank, but hesitated to plunge in.
The pendja-baschi seized his musket and took aim at Michael, whom he could see in the middle of the stream. The shot was fired, and Michael’s horse, struck in the side, was borne away by the current.
His master, speedily disentangling himself from his stirrups, struck out boldly for the shore. In the midst of a hailstorm of balls he managed to reach the opposite side, and disappeared in the rushes.
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1
hoofs
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| n.（兽的）蹄，马蹄( hoof的名词复数 )v.（兽的）蹄，马蹄( hoof的第三人称单数 ) | |
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hordes
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| n.移动着的一大群( horde的名词复数 )；部落 | |
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3
barbarians
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| n.野蛮人( barbarian的名词复数 )；外国人；粗野的人；无教养的人 | |
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upwards
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| adv.向上，在更高处...以上 | |
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deserted
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| adj.荒芜的，荒废的，无人的，被遗弃的 | |
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tenantless
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| adj.无人租赁的，无人居住的 | |
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nourishment
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| n.食物，营养品；营养情况 | |
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decided
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| adj.决定了的，坚决的；明显的，明确的 | |
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gallop
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| v./n.(马或骑马等)飞奔；飞速发展 | |
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devastated
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| v.彻底破坏( devastate的过去式和过去分词)；摧毁；毁灭；在感情上（精神上、财务上等）压垮adj.毁坏的；极为震惊的 | |
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11
refreshing
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| adj.使精神振作的，使人清爽的，使人喜欢的 | |
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spoke
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| n.（车轮的）辐条；轮辐；破坏某人的计划；阻挠某人的行动 v.讲，谈（speak的过去式）；说；演说；从某种观点来说 | |
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13
tributaries
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| n. 支流 | |
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excellence
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| n.优秀，杰出，(pl.)优点，美德 | |
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penetrated
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| adj. 击穿的，鞭辟入里的 动词penetrate的过去式和过去分词形式 | |
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parched
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| adj.焦干的；极渴的；v.（使）焦干 | |
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attentively
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| adv.聚精会神地；周到地；谛；凝神 | |
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cavalry
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| n.骑兵；轻装甲部队 | |
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trot
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| n.疾走，慢跑；n.老太婆；现成译本；(复数）trots:腹泻（与the 连用）；v.小跑，快步走，赶紧 | |
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outstrip
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| v.超过，跑过 | |
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21
bridle
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| n.笼头，束缚；vt.抑制，约束；动怒 | |
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larch
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| n.落叶松 | |
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destitute
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| adj.缺乏的；穷困的 | |
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bogs
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| n.沼泽，泥塘( bog的名词复数 )；厕所v.（使）陷入泥沼， （使）陷入困境( bog的第三人称单数 )；妨碍，阻碍 | |
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bog
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| n.沼泽；室...陷入泥淖 | |
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dwarfed
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| vt.（使）显得矮小（dwarf的过去式与过去分词形式） | |
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plunging
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| adj.跳进的，突进的v.颠簸( plunge的现在分词 )；暴跌；骤降；突降 | |
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28
ascertain
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| vt.发现，确定，查明，弄清 | |
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larches
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| n.落叶松（木材）( larch的名词复数 ) | |
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30
gliding
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| v. 滑翔 adj. 滑动的 | |
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savage
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| adj.野蛮的；凶恶的，残暴的；n.未开化的人 | |
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32
lighting
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| n.照明，光线的明暗，舞台灯光 | |
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instinctively
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| adv.本能地 | |
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34
plunge
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| v.跳入，(使)投入，(使)陷入；猛冲 | |
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refreshment
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| n.恢复，精神爽快，提神之事物；（复数）refreshments:点心，茶点 | |
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36
tunics
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| n.（动植物的）膜皮( tunic的名词复数 )；束腰宽松外衣；一套制服的短上衣；（天主教主教等穿的）短祭袍 | |
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37
tunic
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| n.束腰外衣 | |
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38
musket
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| n.滑膛枪 | |
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39
slung
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| 抛( sling的过去式和过去分词 )； 吊挂； 遣送； 押往 | |
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40
possessed
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| adj.疯狂的；拥有的，占有的 | |
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41
remarkable
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| adj.显著的，异常的，非凡的，值得注意的 | |
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42
trumpets
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| 喇叭( trumpet的名词复数 )； 小号； 喇叭形物； （尤指）绽开的水仙花 | |
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43
distinctive
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| adj.特别的，有特色的，与众不同的 | |
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44
fatigued
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| adj. 疲乏的 | |
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45
rugged
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| adj.高低不平的，粗糙的，粗壮的，强健的 | |
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46
wretch
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| n.可怜的人，不幸的人；卑鄙的人 | |
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47
imminent
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| adj.即将发生的，临近的，逼近的 | |
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48
inevitably
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| adv.不可避免地；必然发生地 | |
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49
invaders
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| 入侵者，侵略者，侵入物( invader的名词复数 ) | |
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50
random
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| adj.随机的；任意的；n.偶然的(或随便的)行动 | |
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51
penetrating
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| adj.（声音）响亮的，尖锐的adj.（气味）刺激的adj.（思想）敏锐的，有洞察力的 | |
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52
recollected
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| adj.冷静的；镇定的；被回忆起的；沉思默想的v.记起，想起( recollect的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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53
thicket
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| n.灌木丛，树林 | |
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54
entirely
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| ad.全部地，完整地；完全地，彻底地 | |
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55
scenting
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| vt.闻到（scent的现在分词形式） | |
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56
galloped
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| （使马）飞奔，奔驰( gallop的过去式和过去分词 )； 快速做[说]某事 | |
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57
rein
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| n.疆绳，统治，支配；vt.以僵绳控制，统治 | |
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58
dreaded
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| adj.令人畏惧的；害怕的v.害怕，恐惧，担心( dread的过去式和过去分词) | |
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59
exhausted
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| adj.极其疲惫的，精疲力尽的 | |
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60
plunged
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| v.颠簸( plunge的过去式和过去分词 )；暴跌；骤降；突降 | |
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torrent
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| n.激流，洪流；爆发，(话语等的)连发 | |
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