ur place I'd do nothing but make merry! And what is your
rank?'

'I am a cadet, but have been recommended for a commission.'

'Well, if you're not bragging about your home, if I were you I'd never
have left it! Yes, I'd never have gone away anywhere. Do you find it
pleasant living among us?'

'Yes, very pleasant,' answered Olenin.

It had grown quite dark before, talking in this way, they approached
the village. They were still surrounded by the deep gloom of the
forest. The wind howled through the tree-tops. The jackals suddenly
seemed to be crying close beside them, howling, chuckling, and sobbing;
but ahead of them in the village the sounds of women's voices and the
barking of dogs could already be heard; the outlines of the huts were
clearly to be seen; lights gleamed and the air was filled with the
peculiar smell of kisyak smoke. Olenin felt keenly, that night
especially, that here in this village was his home, his family, all his
happiness, and that he never had and never would live so happily
anywhere as he did in this Cossack village. He was so fond of everybody
and especially of Lukashka that night. On reaching home, to Lukashka's
great surprise, Olenin with his own hands led out of the shed a horse
he had bought in Groznoe--it was not the one he usually rode but
another--not a bad horse though no longer young, and gave it to
Lukashka.

'Why should you give me a present?' said Lukashka, 'I have not yet done
anything for you.'

'Really it is nothing,' answered Olenin. 'Take it, and you will give me
a present, and we'll go on an expedition against the enemy together.'

Lukashka became confused.

'But what d'you mean by it? As if a horse were of little value,' he
said without looking at the horse.

'Take it, take it! If you don't you will offend me. Vanyusha! Take the
grey horse to his house.'

Lukashka took hold of the halter.

'Well then, thank you! This is something unexpected, undreamt of.'

Olenin was as happy as a boy of twelve.

'Tie it up here. It's a good horse. I bought it in Groznoe; it gallops
splendidly! Vanyusha, bring us some chikhir. Come into the hut.'

The wine was brought. Lukashka sat down and took the wine-bowl.

'God willing I'll find a way to repay you,' he said, finishing his
wine. 'How are you called?'

'Dmitri Andreich.'

'Well, 'Mitry Andreich, God bless you. We will be kunaks. Now you must
come to see us. Though we are not rich people still we can treat a
kunak, a