The Tartar must, however, really have heard Kostílin scream. Zhílin suddenly heard someone galloping behind and shouting in the Tartar tongue. He darted in among the bushes. The Tartar seized his gun and fired, but did not hit them, shouted in his own language, and galloped off along the road.

“Well, now we are lost, friend!” said Zhílin. “That dog will gather the Tartars together to hunt us down. Unless we can get a couple of miles away from here we are lost!” And he thought to himself, “Why the devil did I saddle myself with this block? I should have got away long ago had I been alone.”

“Go on alone,” said Kostílin. “Why should you perish because of me?”

“No I won’t go. It won’t do to desert a comrade.”