of a hundred waggons,
and with them many Cossack cavalry and infantry; and, turning, he
threatened with a glance all who remained behind, and wrath was in his
eye. The band departed in full view of all the army, and Taras continued
long to turn and glower.

The hetman and leaders were uneasy; all became thoughtful, and remained
silent, as though oppressed by some heavy foreboding. Not in vain had
Taras prophesied: all came to pass as he had foretold. A little later,
after the treacherous attack at Kaneva, the hetman's head was mounted on
a stake, together with those of many of his officers.

And what of Taras? Taras made raids all over Poland with his band,
burned eighteen towns and nearly forty churches, and reached Cracow.
He killed many nobles, and plundered some of the richest and finest
castles. The Cossacks emptied on the ground the century-old mead and
wine, carefully hoarded up in lordly cellars; they cut and burned the
rich garments and equipments which they found in the wardrobes.
"Spare nothing," was the order of Taras. The Cossacks spared not the
black-browed gentlewomen, the brilliant, white-bosomed maidens: these
could not save themselves even at the altar, for Taras burned them with
the altar itself. Snowy hands were raised to heaven from amid fiery
flames, with piteous shrieks which would have moved the damp earth
itself to pity and caused the steppe-grass to bend with compassion
at their fate. But the cruel Cossacks paid no heed; and, raising the
children in the streets upon the points of their lances, they cast them
also into the flames.

"This is a mass for the soul of Ostap, you heathen Lyakhs," was all
that Taras said. And such masses for Ostap he had sung in every village,
until the Polish Government perceived that Taras's raids were more than
ordinary expeditions for plunder; and Pototzky was given five regiments,
and ordered to capture him without fail.

Six days did the Cossacks retreat along the by-roads before their
pursuers; their horses were almost equal to this unchecked flight, and
nearly saved them. But this time Pototzky was also equal to the task
intrusted to him; unweariedly he followed them, and overtook them on the
bank of the Dniester, where Taras had taken possession of an abandoned
and ruined castle for the purpose of resting.

On the very brink of the Dniester it stood, with its shattered ramparts
and the ruined remnants of its walls. The summit of the cliff was strewn
wit