“What is it? What is it?” Vasíli Andréevich mimicked him angrily. “There are no stakes to be seen! We must have got off the road!”

“Well, pull up then, and I’ll look for it,” said Nikíta, and jumping down lightly from the sledge and taking the whip from under the straw, he went off to the left from his own side of the sledge.

The snow was not deep that year, so that it was possible to walk anywhere, but still in places it was knee-deep and got into Nikíta’s boots. He went about feeling the ground with his feet and the whip, but could not find the road anywhere.

“Well, how is it?” asked Vasíli Andréevich when Nikíta came back to the sledge.

“There is no road this side. I must go to the other side and try there,” said Nikíta.

“There’s something there in front. Go and have a look.”