Lyakhs by dealing blows on the head to one and another;
on the other side, the hetman Nevelitchkiy was attacking with his men;
and Zakrutibuga was repulsing and slaying the enemy by the waggons.
The third Pisarenko had repulsed a whole squadron from the more distant
waggons; and they were still fighting and killing amongst the other
waggons, and even upon them.

"How now, gentles?" cried Taras, stepping forward before them all: "is
there still powder in your flasks? Is the Cossack force still strong? do
the Cossacks yield?"

"There is still powder in the flasks, father; the Cossack force is still
strong: the Cossacks yield not!"

But Bovdug had already fallen from the waggons; a bullet had struck him
just below the heart. The old man collected all his strength, and said,
"I sorrow not to part from the world. God grant every man such an end!
May the Russian land be forever glorious!" And Bovdug's spirit flew
above, to tell the old men who had gone on long before that men still
knew how to fight on Russian soil, and better still, that they knew how
to die for it and the holy faith.

Balaban, hetman of a kuren, soon after fell to the ground also from a
waggon. Three mortal wounds had he received from a lance, a bullet,
and a sword. He had been one of the very best of Cossacks, and had
accomplished a great deal as a commander on naval expeditions; but more
glorious than all the rest was his raid on the shores of Anatolia. They
collected many sequins, much valuable Turkish plunder, caftans, and
adornments of every description. But misfortune awaited them on their
way back. They came across the Turkish fleet, and were fired on by the
ships. Half the boats were crushed and overturned, drowning more than
one; but the bundles of reeds bound to the sides, Cossack fashion, saved
the boats from completely sinking. Balaban rowed off at full speed,
and steered straight in the face of the sun, thus rendering himself
invisible to the Turkish ships. All the following night they spent in
baling out the water with pails and their caps, and in repairing the
damaged places. They made sails out of their Cossack trousers, and,
sailing off, escaped from the fastest Turkish vessels. And not only did
they arrive unharmed at the Setch, but they brought a gold-embroidered
vesture for the archimandrite at the Mezhigorsky Monastery in Kief,
and an ikon frame of pure silver for the church in honour of
the Intercession of the Virgin Mary, which is