第25章

第25章“comealong,comealong!”saidhisfather.“theyaredrunkenandfoolish,theyareinfun;comeaway,don’tlook!”andhetriedtodrawhimaway,buthetorehimselfawayfromhishand,and,besidehimselfwithhorror,rantothehorse.thepoorbeastwasinabadway.shewasgasping,standingstill,theningagainandalmostfalling.

“beathertodeath,”criedmikolka,“it’scometothat.i’lldoforher!”

“whatareyouabout,areyouachristian,youdevil?”shoutedanoldmaninthecrowd.

“didanyoneeverseethelike?awretchednaglikethatpullingsuchacartload,”saidanother.

“you’llkillher,”shoutedthethird.

“don’tmeddle!it’smyproperty,i’lldowhatichoose.getin,moreofyou!getin,allofyou!iwillhavehergoatagallop!…”

allatoncelaughterbrokeintoaroarandcoveredeverything:themare,rousedbytheshowerofblows,beganfeeblykicking.eventheoldmancouldnothelpsmiling.tothinkofawretchedlittlebeastlikethattryingtokick!

twoladsinthecrowdsnatchedupwhipsandrantothemaretobeatherabouttheribs.oneraneachside.

“hitherintheface,intheeyes,intheeyes,”criedmikolka.

“giveusasong,mates,”shoutedsomeoneinthecartandeveryoneinthecartjoinedinariotoussong,jinglingatambourineandwhistling.thewomanwentoncrackingnutsandlaughing.

…heranbesidethemare,raninfrontofher,sawherbeingwhippedacrosstheeyes,rightintheeyes!hewascrying,hefeltchoking,histearswerestreaming.oneofthemengavehimacutwiththewhipacrosstheface,hedidnotfeelit.wringinghishandsandscreaming,herusheduptothegrey-headedoldmanwiththegreybeard,whowasshakinghisheadindisapproval.onewomanseizedhimbythehandandwouldhavetakenhimaway,buthetorehimselffromherandranbacktothemare.shewasalmostatthelastgasp,butbegankickingoncemore.

“i’llteachyoutokick,”mikolkashoutedferociously.hethrewdownthewhip,bentforwardandpickedupfromthebottomofthecartalong,thickshaft,hetookholdofoneendwithbothhandsandwithaneffortbrandisheditoverthemare.

“he’llcrushher,”wasshoutedroundhim.“he’llkillher!”

“it’smyproperty,”shoutedmikolkaandbroughttheshaftdownwithaswingingblow.therewasasoundofaheavythud.

“thrashher,thrashher!whyhaveyoustopped?”shoutedvoicesinthecrowd.

andmikolkaswungtheshaftasecondtimeanditfellasecondtimeonthespineofthelucklessmare.shesankbackonherhaunches,butlurchedforwardandedforwardwithallherforce,edfirstononesideandthenontheother,tryingtomovethecart.butthesixwhipswereattackingherinalldirections,andtheshaftwasraisedagainandfelluponherathirdtime,thenafourth,withheavymeasuredblows.mikolkawasinafurythathecouldnotkillheratoneblow.

“she’satoughone,”wasshoutedinthecrowd.

“she’llfallinaminute,mates,therewillsoonbeanendofher,”saidanadmiringspectatorinthecrowd.

“fetchanaxetoher!finishheroff,”shoutedathird.

“i’llshowyou!standoff,”mikolkascreamedfrantically;hethrewdowntheshaft,stoopeddowninthecartandpickedupanironcrowbar.“lookout,”heshouted,andwithallhismighthedealtastunningblowatthepoormare.theblowfell;themareered,sankback,triedtopull,butthebarfellagainwithaswingingblowonherbackandshefellonthegroundlikealog.

“finishheroff,”shoutedmikolkaandheleaptbesidehimself,outofthecart.severalyoungmen,alsoflushedwithdrink,seizedanythingtheycouldcomeacross—whips,sticks,poles,andrantothedyingmare.mikolkastoodononesideandbegandealingrandomblowswiththecrowbar.themarestretchedoutherhead,drewalongbreathanddied.

“youbutcheredher,”someoneshoutedinthecrowd.

“whywouldn’tshegallopthen?”

“myproperty!”shoutedmikolka,withbloodshoteyes,brandishingthebarinhishands.hestoodasthoughregrettingthathehadnothingmoretobeat.

“nomistakeaboutit,youarenotachristian,”manyvoiceswereshoutinginthecrowd.

butthepoorboy,besidehimself,madehisway,screaming,throughthecrowdtothesorrelnag,puthisarmsroundherbleedingdeadheadandkissedit,kissedtheeyesandkissedthelips.…thenhejumpedupandflewinafrenzywithhislittlefistsoutatmikolka.atthatinstanthisfather,whohadbeenrunningafterhim,snatchedhimupandcarriedhimoutofthecrowd.

“comealong,come!letusgohome,”hesaidtohim.

“father!whydidthey…kill…thepoorhorse!”hesobbed,buthisvoicebrokeandthewordscameinshrieksfromhispantingchest.

“theyaredrunk.…theyarebrutal…it’snotourbusiness!”saidhisfather.heputhisarmsroundhisfatherbuthefeltchoked,choked.hetriedtodrawabreath,tocryout—andwokeup.

hewakedup,gaspingforbreath,hishairsoakedwithperspiration,andstoodupinterror.

“thankgod,thatwasonlyadream,”hesaid,sittingdownunderatreeanddrawingdeepbreaths.“butwhatisit?isitsomefevercomingon?suchahideousdream!”

hefeltutterlybroken:darknessandconfusionwereinhissoul.herestedhiselbowsonhiskneesandleanedhisheadonhishands.

“goodgod!”hecried,“canitbe,canitbe,thatishallreallytakeanaxe,thatishallstrikeheronthehead,splitherskullopen…thatishalltreadinthestickywarmblood,breakthelock,stealandtremble;hide,allspatteredintheblood…withtheaxe.…goodgod,canitbe?”

hewasshakinglikealeafashesaidthis.