fence and gives a tug to
his coat which has caught on the fence. There a woman is dragging a dry
branch along and from round the corner comes the sound of an axe.
Cossack children, spinning their tops wherever there is a smooth place
in the street, are shrieking; women are climbing over fences to avoid
going round. From every chimney rises the odorous kisyak smoke. From
every homestead comes the sound of increased bustle, precursor to the
stillness of night.

Granny Ulitka, the wife of the Cossack cornet who is also teacher in
the regimental school, goes out to the gates of her yard like the other
women, and waits for the cattle which her daughter Maryanka is driving
along the street. Before she has had time fully to open the wattle gate
in the fence, an enormous buffalo cow surrounded by mosquitoes rushes
up bellowing and squeezes in. Several well-fed cows slowly follow her,
their large eyes gazing with recognition at their mistress as they
swish their sides with their tails. The beautiful and shapely Maryanka
enters at the gate and throwing away her switch quickly slams the gate
to and rushes with all the speed of her nimble feet to separate and
drive the cattle into their sheds. 'Take off your slippers, you devil's
wench!' shouts her mother, 'you've worn them into holes!' Maryanka is
not at all offended at being called a 'devil's wench', but accepting it
as a term of endearment cheerfully goes on with her task. Her face is
covered with a kerchief tied round her head. She is wearing a pink
smock and a green beshmet. She disappears inside the lean-to shed in
the yard, following the big fat cattle; and from the shed comes her
voice as she speaks gently and persuasively to the buffalo: 'Won't she
stand still? What a creature! Come now, come old dear!' Soon the girl
and the old woman pass from the shed to the dairy carrying two large
pots of milk, the day's yield. From the dairy chimney rises a thin
cloud of kisyak smoke: the milk is being used to make into clotted
cream. The girl makes up the fire while her mother goes to the gate.
Twilight has fallen on the village. The air is full of the smell of
vegetables, cattle, and scented kisyak smoke. From the gates and along
the streets Cossack women come running, carrying lighted rags. From the
yards one hears the snorting and quiet chewing of the cattle eased of
their milk, while in the street only the voices of women and children
sound as they call to one another. It is rare