turned somewhat pale; only
here and there stood a solitary young little birch, all red or all
golden, and one should have seen how brightly these birches flushed in
the sun when its rays suddenly appeared gliding and flashing through the
dense net of the thin branches which had just been washed around by the
sparkling rain. Not a single bird was heard; all had found shelter, and
were silent; only rarely the mocking voice of the bluebird sang out like
a little steel bell. Before stopping in this birch forest I passed
with my dog through a poplar grove. I confess I am not very fond of the
poplar tree with its pale lilac-colored trunk and its grayish-green,
metallic leaves, which it lifts high and spreads in the air like a
trembling fan--I do not like the constant shaking of its round, untidy
leaves, which are so awkwardly attached to long stems. The poplar is
pretty only on certain summer evenings when, rising high amid the low
shrubbery, it stands against the red rays of the setting sun, shining
and trembling, bathed from root to top in uniform yellowish purple--or
when, on a clear windy day, it rocks noisily, lisping against the blue
sky, and each leaf seems as if eager to tear itself away, to fly and
hurry off into the distance. But in general I do not like this tree,
and, therefore, not stopping to rest in the poplar grove, I made my
way to the birch forest, and seated myself under a tree whose branches
started near the ground, and thus could protect me from the rain. Having
admired the surrounding view, I fell asleep--I slept that tranquil,
sweet sleep which is familiar to hunters only.

I can not say how long I slept, but when I opened my eyes the entire
interior of the forest was filled with sunshine, and everywhere the
bright blue sky was flashing through the cheerfully droning leaves; the
clouds disappeared, driven asunder by the wind which had begun to play;
the weather was clear now, and one felt in the air that peculiar, dry
freshness which, filling the heart with a certain vigorous sensation,
almost always predicts a quiet, clear night after a rainy day. I was
about to rise and try my luck at hunting again, when my eyes suddenly
fell on a motionless human figure. I gassed at it fixedly; it was a
young peasant girl. She was sitting some twenty feet away from me, her
head bowed pensively and her hands dropped on her knees; in one hand,
which was half open, lay a heavy bunch of field flowers, and every time
she