“Vodka, Ermíl! I want some drink!” His voice sounded vindictive and dejected.

“Drink, at this time?” answered the Elder, who was eating something out of a bowl. “Don’t you see the others have had a bite and gone to lie down? Why do you kick up a row?”

The word “row” evidently suggested to Elijah the idea of violence.

“Elder, I’ll do some mischief if you don’t give me vodka!”

“Couldn’t you bring him to reason?” the Elder said, turning to Doútlof, who had lit the lantern and stopped, apparently to see what would happen, and was looking pityingly at his nephew out of the corners of his eyes, as if surprised at his childishness.

Elijah, taken aback, again muttered:

“Vodka! Give⁠ ⁠… do mischief!”