formed a very
powerful barrier against the rapacity of unconscientious proprietors.
As soon as the serfs remarked in their master a tendency to rapacity and
extortion, they at once took measures to defend themselves. Their first
step was to sell secretly the live stock they did not actually require,
and all their movable property except the few articles necessary for
everyday use; then the little capital realised was carefully hidden.

When this had been effected, the proprietor might threaten and punish
as he liked, but he rarely succeeded in unearthing the treasure. Many
a peasant, under such circumstances, bore patiently the most cruel
punishment, and saw his sons taken away as recruits, and yet he
persisted in declaring that he had no money to ransom himself and his
children. A spectator in such a case would probably have advised him
to give up his little store of money, and thereby liberate himself from
persecution; but the peasants reasoned otherwise. They were convinced,
and not without reason, that the sacrifice of their little capital would
merely put off the evil day, and that the persecution would very soon
recommence. In this way they would have to suffer as before, and have
the additional mortification of feeling that they had spent to no
purpose the little that they possessed. Their fatalistic belief in the
"perhaps" (avos') came here to their aid. Perhaps the proprietor might
become weary of his efforts when he saw that they led to no result, or
perhaps something might occur which would remove the persecutor.

It always happened, however, that when a proprietor treated his serfs
with extreme injustice and cruelty, some of them lost patience, and
sought refuge in flight. As the estates lay perfectly open on all sides,
and it was utterly impossible to exercise a strict supervision, nothing
was easier than to run away, and the fugitive might be a hundred miles
off before his absence was noticed. But the oppressed serf was reluctant
to adopt such an extreme measure. He had almost always a wife and
family, and he could not possibly take them with him; flight, therefore,
was expatriation for life in its most terrible form. Besides this, the
life of a fugitive was by no means enviable. He was liable at any moment
to fall into the hands of the police, and to be put into prison or sent
back to his master. So little charm, indeed, did this life present that
not infrequently after a few months or a few years the fu