来自：A Sportsman's Sketches
"Well, did you actually see the house spirit?" "No, I didn't see him, and you can't see him," answered Ilyusha in a hoarse and weak voice, the sound of which corresponded perfectly with the expression on his face, "but I heard him... And I wasn't the only one." "Where does he live at your place?" asked Pavlusha. "In the old rolling room." [The "rolling room" or "dipping room" at paper mills is the name given to the building where paper is dipped from vats. It is located right by the dam, under the wheel. (Note by I.S. Turgenev.)] "Do you work at the mill?" "Of course we do. My brother Avdyushka and I work as finishers." ["Finishers" polish and scrape paper. (Note by I.S. Turgenev.)] "So you're mill workers!..." "Well, how did you hear him?" asked Fedya. "Here's how. My brother Avdyushka and I had to stay, along with Fyodor Mikheyevsky, and Ivashka the Cross-Eyed, and another Ivashka from Red Hills, and also Ivashka Sukhorukov, and there were other boys there too; there were about ten of us boys altogether — a whole shift; but we had to spend the night in the rolling room, that is, not exactly that we had to, but Nazarov, the overseer, forbade us; he says: 'Why should you boys trudge home; there's a lot of work tomorrow, so you boys don't go home.' So we stayed and all lay down together, and Avdyushka started saying, 'Well, boys, what if the house spirit comes?'... And no sooner had he, Avdey, said this, than suddenly someone started walking above our heads; but we were lying below, and he was walking above, by the wheel. We hear him: walking, the boards beneath him bending and creaking; there he walked right over our heads; suddenly the water started rushing over the wheel, rushing and rushing; the wheel started pounding, pounding, and turning; but the sluice gates at the millrace [The "millrace" is what we call the place where the water runs onto the wheel. (Note by I.S. Turgenev.)] were lowered. We wonder: who raised them, that the water started flowing; however, the wheel turned and turned, then stopped. That one went again to the door upstairs and started coming down the stairs, and you could hear he wasn't hurrying; the steps under him were even groaning... Well, he approached our door, waited, waited — suddenly the door flew wide open. We were alarmed, we look — nothing... Suddenly, look, at one of the vats the mold [The screen with which paper is dipped. (Note by I.S. Turgenev.)] started moving, rose up, dipped down, moved about, moved about in the air, as if someone was rinsing it, and then back in place. Then at another vat a hook came off a nail and back on the nail; then as if someone went to the door and suddenly started coughing, choking, like some sheep, and so loudly... We all just tumbled in a heap, crawling under each other... Oh how frightened we were at that time!" "I'll say!" remarked Pavel. "Why was he coughing?" "I don't know; maybe from the dampness." Everyone fell silent. "Well," asked Fedya, "are the potatoes cooked?" Pavlusha felt them. "No, still raw... Listen, there was a splash," he added, turning his face toward the river, "must be a pike... And there, a little star fell." "No, I'll tell you something, brothers," Kostya began in his thin voice, "listen, the other day my father told me, and I was there." "Well, we're listening," said Fedya with a patronizing air. "You know Gavrila, the village carpenter?" "Well yes; we know him." "And do you know why he's always so gloomy, always silent, you know? Here's why he's so gloomy. He went once, my father was saying — he went, my brothers, to the forest for nuts. So he went to the forest for nuts, and got lost; he went — God knows where he went. He walked and walked, brothers — no! he can't find the way; and it was already night. So he sat down under a tree; 'I'll wait till morning,' he says — he sat down and dozed off. So he dozed off and suddenly hears someone calling him. He looks — nobody. He dozed off again — they call again. He looks, looks again: and before him on a branch sits a water nymph, swinging and calling him to her, and she's dying of laughter, laughing... And the moon was shining strongly, so strongly, the moon was shining clearly — everything, my brothers, was visible. So she's calling him, and she herself is all bright, all white sitting on the branch, like some roach or minnow — or there's also carp that are whitish like that, silvery... Gavrila the carpenter froze solid, my brothers, but she just kept laughing and kept beckoning him to her with her hand. Gavrila was about to get up, about to obey the water nymph, my brothers, but, apparently, the Lord put sense into him: he managed to cross himself... And oh how hard it was for him to make the sign of the cross, my brothers; he says, his hand was simply like stone, wouldn't move... Ah, you devil!.. So when he made the sign of the cross, my brothers, the water nymph stopped laughing, and suddenly she started crying... She cries, my brothers, wiping her eyes with her hair, and her hair is green, like hemp. So Gavrila looked and looked at her, and started asking her: 'Why are you crying, forest demon?' And the water nymph says to him: 'If you hadn't crossed yourself, man, you would have lived with me in merriment till the end of your days; but I'm crying, I'm grieving because you crossed yourself; but I won't grieve alone: you grieve too till the end of your days.' Then she, my brothers, disappeared, and Gavrila immediately understood how to get out of the forest... But since then he's been going around gloomy." "Well!" said Fedya after a brief silence, "but how can such forest uncleanness spoil a Christian soul — he didn't obey her?" "But there you have it!" said Kostya. "And Gavrila said that her voice, he says, was so thin, pitiful, like a frog's." "Your father told this himself?" continued Fedya. "Himself. I was lying on the sleeping shelf, heard everything." "Strange thing! Why should he be gloomy?... Well, apparently, he pleased her, since she called him." "Yes, pleased!" picked up Ilyusha. "Of course! She wanted to tickle him to death, that's what she wanted. That's their business, these water nymphs." "And you know, there must be water nymphs here too," noted Fedya. "No," answered Kostya, "this is a clean place, open. Only thing — the river's close." Everyone fell silent. Suddenly, somewhere in the distance, rang out a long, ringing, almost moaning sound, one of those incomprehensible night sounds that sometimes arise amid deep silence, rise up, hang in the air and slowly disperse at last, as if dying away. You listen — and it's as if there's nothing, yet it rings. It seemed as if someone cried out long, long under the very horizon, someone else seemed to answer him in the forest with thin, sharp laughter, and a weak, hissing whistle rushed along the river. The boys exchanged glances, shuddered... "The sign of the cross be with us!" whispered Ilya. "Eh, you crows!" cried Pavel. "Why are you alarmed? Look, the potatoes are cooked." (Everyone moved toward the pot and began eating the steaming potatoes; only Vanya didn't stir.) "What about you?" said Pavel. But he didn't come out from under his mat. The pot was soon completely emptied. "Have you heard, boys," began Ilyusha, "what happened the other day at our Varnavitsy?" "At the dam?" asked Fedya. "Yes, yes, at the dam, at the broken one. That's an unclean place, so unclean, and so desolate. All around are ravines, gullies, and in the gullies all kinds of snakes [In Oryol dialect: serpents. (Note by I.S. Turgenev.)] live." "Well, what happened? Tell us..." "Here's what happened. You, Fedya, maybe don't know, but there's a drowned man buried there; and he drowned long, long ago, when the pond was still deep; but his grave is still visible, though barely visible: just — a little mound... So, the other day, the steward calls the dog-keeper Ermil; he says: 'Go, he says, Ermil, to the post office.' Ermil always goes to the post office for us; he's killed all his dogs — they don't live with him for some reason, never have lived, but he's a good dog-keeper, got everything right. So Ermil went for the mail, and lingered in town, but when he's riding back he's already drunk. And it's night, and a bright night: the moon's shining... So Ermil is riding across the dam: that's the way his road went. He's riding like that, the dog-keeper Ermil, and sees: on the drowned man's grave a little lamb, white, curly, pretty, is walking. So Ermil thinks: 'I'll take him — why should he go to waste,' and he got down, and took him in his arms... But the little lamb — nothing. So Ermil goes to his horse, but the horse shies away from him, snorts, shakes its head; however, he calmed her down, got on her with the lamb and rode on again: holding the lamb in front of him. He looks at it, and the lamb looks him right in the eyes. Ermil the dog-keeper got scared: 'I don't remember, he says, rams looking people in the eyes like that'; however, nothing; he started stroking its wool like this — says: 'Baa, baa!' And the ram suddenly bares its teeth, and says to him too: 'Baa, baa!...' No sooner had the storyteller uttered this last word than suddenly both dogs jumped up at once, rushed away from the fire with convulsive barking and disappeared into the darkness. All the boys were frightened. Vanya jumped out from under his mat. Pavlusha with a shout rushed after the dogs. Their barking quickly receded... The anxious running of the alarmed herd could be heard. Pavlusha was shouting loudly: "Gray! Beetle!..." In a few moments the barking ceased; Pavel's voice came already from far away... A little more time passed; the boys exchanged puzzled glances, as if waiting for what would happen... Suddenly there was the trampling of a galloping horse; it stopped abruptly right by the fire, and, clutching the mane, Pavlusha nimbly jumped off it. Both dogs also jumped into the circle of light and immediately sat down, sticking out their red tongues. "What was it? What?" asked the boys. "Nothing," answered Pavel, waving his hand at the horse, "just, the dogs scented something. I thought it was a wolf," he added in an indifferent voice, breathing rapidly with his whole chest. I involuntarily admired Pavlusha. He was very fine at that moment. His plain face, animated by the quick ride, burned with bold daring and firm resolve. Without even a stick in his hand, at night, he had galloped alone at a wolf without the slightest hesitation... "What a splendid boy!" I thought, looking at him. "Did you see them, the wolves?" asked the cowardly Kostya. "There are always many of them here," answered Pavel, "but they're only troublesome in winter." He settled down again by the fire. Sitting down on the ground, he laid his hand on the shaggy nape of one of the dogs, and for a long time the delighted animal didn't turn its head, looking sideways at Pavlusha with grateful pride. Vanya burrowed under his mat again. "What scary stories you've been telling us, Ilyushka," began Fedya, who, as the son of a wealthy peasant, had to be the leader (though he himself spoke little, as if afraid of lowering his dignity). "And the devil made the dogs bark... But it's true, I've heard, that place of yours is unclean." "Varnavitsy?... I should say so! very unclean! They say the old master has been seen there many times — the late master. He walks, they say, in a long-skirted coat and keeps groaning like this, looking for something on the ground. Grandfather Trofimych met him once: 'What, he says, sir, Ivan Ivanovich, are you pleased to be looking for on the ground?'" "He asked him?" interrupted the astonished Fedya. "Yes, he asked." "Well, Trofimych is brave then... Well, and what did he say?" "'Break-grass,' he says, 'I'm looking for.' And he spoke so hollowly, hollowly: 'Break-grass.' 'And what do you need, sir Ivan Ivanovich, break-grass for?' 'The grave,' he says, 'is pressing, Trofimych: I want out, out...'" "I see!" noted Fedya, "didn't live long enough, apparently." "What a wonder!" said Kostya. "I thought you could only see the dead on Parents' Saturday." "You can see the dead any time," Ilyusha picked up with assurance, who, as far as I could tell, knew all the village superstitions better than the others... "But on Parents' Saturday you can see the living too, those, that is, whose turn it is to die that year. You just have to sit on the church porch at night and keep looking at the road. Those who are to die that year will walk past you on the road. Last year our woman Ulyana went to the porch." "Well, and did she see anyone?" asked Kostya with curiosity. "Of course. First she sat for a long, long time, didn't see or hear anyone... only it was as if a little dog was barking, barking somewhere... Suddenly, she looks: a boy is walking along the path in just a shirt. She looked closer — it was Ivashka Fedoseyev walking..." "The one who died in spring?" interrupted Fedya. "The very same. Walking and not lifting his little head... And Ulyana recognized him... But then she looks: a woman is walking. She peered and peered — oh Lord! — she herself is walking on the road, Ulyana herself." "Really herself?" asked Fedya. "By God, herself." "Well what, hasn't she died yet?" "But the year hasn't passed yet. And you just look at her: her soul's barely holding on." Everyone fell silent again. Pavel threw a handful of dry twigs on the fire. They turned sharply black against the suddenly flaring flame, crackled, began smoking and curling, raising their charred ends. The reflection of the light struck out, trembling fitfully, in all directions, especially upward. Suddenly, out of nowhere, a white dove — flew right into this reflection, circled fearfully in one place, all bathed in hot radiance, and disappeared, wings ringing. "Must have lost its way from home," noted Pavel. "Now it will fly until it bumps into something, and where it lands, there it will spend the night till dawn." "Well, Pavlusha," said Kostya, "wasn't that a righteous soul flying to heaven, eh?" Pavel threw another handful of twigs on the fire. "Maybe," he said at last. "Tell me, please, Pavlusha," began Fedya, "did you also see the heavenly portent at your Shalamovo?" [This is what our peasants call a solar eclipse. (Note by I.S. Turgenev.)] "When the sun disappeared? Of course." "I suppose you were frightened too?" "Not just us. Our master, though he explained to us beforehand that there would be a portent, when it got dark, they say, he got so scared himself. And in the servants' hut the cook woman, as soon as it got dark, listen, took the oven fork and smashed all the pots in the stove: 'Who's going to eat now,' she says, 'the end of the world has come.' So the cabbage soup ran all over. And in our village such rumors went around, brother, that white wolves would run over the earth, would eat people, that a bird of prey would fly, or that they'd even see Trishka himself." [The belief about "Trishka" probably echoes the legend of the antichrist. (Note by I.S. Turgenev.)] "What Trishka is this?" asked Kostya. "Don't you know?" Ilyusha picked up eagerly. "Well, brother, where are you from, that you don't know Trishka? You must be real homebodies in your village, that's for sure, real homebodies! Trishka — he will be such an amazing man who will come; and he will come when the last times arrive. And he will be such an amazing man that you won't be able to catch him, and nothing can be done to him: he'll be such an amazing man. For example, the peasants will want to catch him; they'll come out at him with clubs, surround him, but he'll deceive their eyes — deceive their eyes so that they'll beat each other up. They'll put him in prison, for example — he'll ask for water to drink in a ladle: they'll bring him a ladle, and he'll dive into it and vanish without a trace. They'll put chains on him, but he'll just clap his hands — and they'll fall right off him. Well, and this Trishka will walk through villages and towns; and this Trishka, a cunning man, will tempt the Christian people... well, but nothing can be done to him... He'll be such an amazing, cunning man." "Well yes," continued Pavel in his unhurried voice, "that's right. So they were waiting for him at our place. The old people said that as soon as the heavenly portent begins, Trishka will come. So it began. All the people poured out into the street, into the field, waiting for what would happen. And our place, you know, is open, spacious. They look — suddenly from the settlement, down the hill, comes some man, such a strange one, with such an amazing head... Everyone screamed: 'Oh, Trishka's coming! oh, Trishka's coming!' — and scattered! Our elder crawled into a ditch; the elder's wife got stuck in the gateway, screaming bloody murder, scared her own yard dog so much that it broke off the chain, over the fence, and into the forest; and Kuzka's father, Dorofeich, jumped into the oats, squatted down, and started calling like a quail: 'Maybe, he says, the enemy, the murderer, will at least spare a bird.' That's how frightened everyone got!.. But the man was our cooper, Vavila: he'd bought himself a new tub and put the empty tub on his head." All the boys laughed and again fell silent for a moment, as often happens with people talking in the open air. I looked around: the night stood solemn and majestic; the damp freshness of late evening had been replaced by midnight's dry warmth, and it would lie as a soft blanket on the sleeping fields for a long time yet; much time remained until the first babbling, the first rustlings and whispers of morning, until the first dewdrops of dawn. There was no moon in the sky: it rose late at that time. Countless golden stars seemed to flow quietly, all twinkling in rivalry, in the direction of the Milky Way, and truly, looking at them, you seemed to feel dimly yourself the swift, ceaseless running of the earth... A strange, sharp, painful cry rang out suddenly twice in succession over the river and, a few moments later, repeated already farther away... Kostya shuddered. "What was that?" "That's a heron crying," Pavel answered calmly. "A heron," repeated Kostya... "But what was it, Pavlusha, that I heard yesterday evening," he added, after pausing a little, "you might know..." "What did you hear?" "Here's what I heard. I was walking from Stone Ridge to Shashkino; and I walked first through our hazel grove, and then I went across the meadow — you know, where it comes out in a sharp bend [A sharp bend is a steep turn in a ravine. (Note by I.S. Turgenev.)] — there's a deep pool there [A deep pool is a deep hole with spring water left after the flood, which doesn't dry up even in summer. (Note by I.S. Turgenev.)]; you know, it's all overgrown with reeds; so I went past this pool, my brothers, and suddenly from that pool someone groaned, and so pitifully, pitifully: oo-oo... oo-oo... oo-oo! Such fear seized me, my brothers: it was late, and the voice was so sickly. I felt like crying myself... What could it have been? eh?" "In that pool thieves drowned Akim the forester the year before last," noted Pavlusha, "so maybe it's his soul complaining." "Well, that could be it, my brothers," answered Kostya, widening his already enormous eyes... "I didn't know that Akim was drowned in that pool: I would have been even more frightened." "But then, they say, there are such tiny frogs," Pavel continued, "that cry so pitifully." "Frogs? Well, no, that wasn't frogs... what kind of... (The heron cried again over the river.) Ugh!" Kostya involuntarily exclaimed, "just like a wood goblin crying." "The wood goblin doesn't cry, he's mute," picked up Ilyusha, "he only claps his hands and rattles..." "Have you seen him, the wood goblin?" Fedya mockingly interrupted. "No, I haven't seen him, and God save me from seeing him; but others have seen him. The other day he led one of our peasants astray: led him, led him through the forest, and all around one clearing... He barely made it home by dawn." "Well, and did he see him?" "He saw him. Says he stood there big, big, dark, wrapped up, like behind a tree, you can't make him out well, as if hiding from the moon, and looks, looks with his great eyes, blinks them, blinks..." "Oh!" exclaimed Fedya, slightly shuddering and twitching his shoulders, "pfui!.." "And why has this filth bred in the world?" noted Pavel. "I really don't understand!" "Don't curse, watch out, he'll hear you," noted Ilya. Silence fell again. "Look, look, boys," suddenly rang out Vanya's childish voice, "look at God's little stars — like bees swarming!" He stuck out his fresh little face from under the mat, propped himself on his little fist and slowly raised upward his large quiet eyes. The eyes of all the boys rose to the sky and didn't lower soon. "Well, Vanya," Fedya spoke tenderly, "how is your sister Anyutka, is she well?" "Well," answered Vanya, slightly lisping. "You tell her — why doesn't she come to us?" "I don't know." "You tell her to come." "I will." "You tell her I'll give her a treat." "And will you give me one?" "I'll give you one too." Vanya sighed. "Well, no, I don't need one. Give it to her instead: she's so kind, our girl." And Vanya laid his head on the ground again. Pavel stood up and took the empty pot in his hand. "Where are you going?" Fedya asked him. "To the river, to scoop some water: I want some water to drink." The dogs got up and followed him. "Watch you don't fall in the river!" Ilyusha called after him. "Why would he fall in?" said Fedya, "he'll be careful." "Yes, he'll be careful. But anything can happen: he'll lean over, start scooping water, and the water spirit will grab him by the hand and drag him down. Then they'll say: the boy fell into the water, they'll say... But what kind of falling?.. There, he's gotten into the reeds," he added, listening. The reeds were indeed "rustling," as we say, parting. "But is it true," asked Kostya, "that Akulina the fool has been crazy since she was in the water?" "Since then... Look at her now! But they say she used to be a beauty. The water spirit spoiled her. Apparently didn't expect them to pull her out so soon. So he spoiled her there, at his place at the bottom." (I myself met this Akulina more than once. Covered in rags, terribly thin, with a face black as coal, a clouded gaze and eternally bared teeth, she stamps for whole hours in one place, somewhere on the road, pressing her bony hands tightly to her chest and slowly swaying from foot to foot, like a wild beast in a cage. She understands nothing, whatever anyone says to her, and only occasionally laughs convulsively.) "But they say," continued Kostya, "that Akulina threw herself in the river because her lover deceived her." "That's exactly why." "And do you remember Vasya?" Kostya added sadly. "What Vasya?" asked Fedya. "The one who drowned," answered Kostya, "in this very river. Oh, what a boy he was! what a boy! His mother, Feklista, how she loved him, Vasya! And it was as if she sensed, Feklista, that he would perish from water. Sometimes Vasya would go with us, with the boys, in summer to swim in the river — she'd be all a-tremble. Other women don't care, they just walk past with their tubs, waddling, but Feklista would put her tub on the ground and start calling him: 'Come back, she'd say, come back, my dear! oh, come back, my falcon!' And how he drowned, the Lord knows. He was playing on the bank, and his mother was right there, raking hay; suddenly she hears, as if someone's blowing bubbles in the water — she looks, and only Vasya's little cap is floating on the water. You see, since then Feklista hasn't been in her right mind: she'll come and lie down in the place where he drowned; she'll lie down, my brothers, and start singing a song — remember, Vasya always sang such a song — so she starts that very one, and cries herself, cries, bitterly complains to God..." "Here comes Pavlusha," said Fedya. Pavel approached the fire with a full pot in his hand. "Well, boys," he began, after pausing, "something's wrong." "What?" Kostya asked hurriedly. "I heard Vasya's voice." Everyone shuddered. "What do you mean, what?" Kostya stammered. "By God. I'd just started bending down to the water, when suddenly I hear someone calling me in Vasya's voice and as if from under the water: 'Pavlusha, oh Pavlusha!' I listen; and he calls again: 'Pavlusha, come here.' I moved away. But I scooped up the water anyway." "Oh Lord! oh Lord!" said the boys, crossing themselves. "That was the water spirit calling you, Pavel," added Fedya... "And we were just talking about him, about Vasya." "Oh, that's a bad omen," said Ilyusha deliberately. "Well, never mind, let it be!" pronounced Pavel decisively and sat down again, "you can't escape your fate." The boys quieted down. It was clear that Pavel's words had made a deep impression on them. They began settling down before the fire, as if preparing to sleep. "What's that?" Kostya suddenly asked, raising his head. Pavel listened. "Those are sandpipers flying, whistling." "Where are they flying?" "To where, they say, there's no winter." "Is there really such a land?" "There is." "Far away?" "Far, far away, beyond the warm seas." Kostya sighed and closed his eyes. More than three hours had passed since I joined the boys. The moon finally rose; I didn't notice it right away: it was so small and narrow. This moonless night seemed just as magnificent as before... But already many stars that had recently stood high in the sky had inclined toward the dark edge of the earth; everything had completely quieted around, as everything usually quiets only toward morning: everything slept a deep, motionless, pre-dawn sleep. The air no longer smelled so strongly — dampness seemed to spread through it again... Short are the summer nights!.. The boys' conversation died away along with the fires... Even the dogs were dozing; the horses, as far as I could make out in the faintly glimmering, weakly flowing starlight, also lay with lowered heads... Sweet oblivion came over me; it turned into drowsiness. A fresh stream ran across my face. I opened my eyes: morning was beginning. The dawn wasn't blushing anywhere yet, but it had already whitened in the east. Everything became visible, though dimly visible, around. The pale gray sky was brightening, growing cold, turning blue; the stars now flickered with weak light, now disappeared; the earth grew damp, leaves became dewy, here and there living sounds, voices began to be heard, and a thin, early breeze was already wandering and fluttering over the earth. My body answered it with a light, cheerful shiver. I quickly got up and went to the boys. They were all sleeping like the dead around the smoldering fire; only Pavel raised himself halfway and looked at me intently. I nodded to him and walked away along the smoking river. I hadn't gone two versts when already streams poured all around me across the wide wet meadow, and ahead, along the greening hills, from forest to forest, and behind along the long dusty road, along the sparkling, crimsoned bushes, and along the river, bashfully turning blue from under the thinning mist — first crimson, then red, golden streams of young, hot light poured forth... Everything stirred, awoke, began singing, rustling, speaking. Everywhere large drops of dew blazed like radiant diamonds; toward me, pure and clear, as if also washed by the morning coolness, came the sounds of a bell, and suddenly past me, driven by the familiar boys, rushed the rested herd... I must add, to my regret, that Pavel died that same year. He didn't drown: he was killed, falling from a horse. What a pity, he was a fine lad!
Biryuk
(From the cycle "A Sportsman's Sketches")