Free The Cossacks by Leo Tolstoy Page B

shoot?” The old man’s sonorous voice echoed through the forest and down the river, breaking the silence and mystery of the night that had enveloped Lukashka. It was as if everything around suddenly became clearer and brighter.
    “You might not have shot anything last night, but I certainly did,” Lukashka said, uncocking his rifle and getting up with remarkable calmness.
    The old man stared at the Chechen’s back, now clearly glistening in the water rippling around it.
    “He was swimming behind the log, but I saw him, and … Hey, look at that! Can you see it? He has a rifle! Do you see it?” Lukashka asked.
    “Of course!” the old man said angrily, his face serious and stern. “You killed a Chechen warrior!” he added with a touch of sadness.
    “I was sitting here, and looked over there and wondered what that black thing was. I spotted him while he was on the other side—it looked as if a man had been walking along the bank and suddenly fallen into the river. ‘How strange!’ I thought. And the log, a nice big log, comes floating along, not downstream, but across the river! I’m watching the log, and suddenly I see a head poking out. ‘Really strange!’ I think. I look out from the reeds where I’m crouching and see nothing. I get up, and I’m sure the bastard hears me, he swims over to the shallows, where he looks around. ‘Ha!’—I think to myself—’You‘re not going to get away!’ I felt like something was stuck in my throat! I get my rifle ready and wait, not moving a hair! The Chechen waited a bit, waited some more, and then swam on, and the moment he swam into the moonlight I could see his back! ‘In the name of the Father and the Son, and the Holy Ghost!’ Then I look through the smoke of my rifle and see him floundering. He was moaning—at least I thought he was. Ah, God be praised, I’ve killed him! And when he floated over to the shallows, I could see him clearly. He tried to get upbut didn’t have the strength. He kept thrashing about and then just lay there. I saw it all clearly! He wasn’t moving, so he had to be dead, is what I thought. Nazarka and Ergushov ran back to the checkpoint to get the others, in case there are more Chechens around.”
    “And so you got him!” the old man said. “He is far away now, my boy!” And again he shook his head sadly.
    Cossack horsemen and foot soldiers came crashing through the underbrush along the riverbank, talking loudly among themselves.
    “Did you bring the boat?” Lukashka shouted to them.
    “Good man, Luka! Let’s haul the Chechen out of the water!” one of the Cossacks called.
    Lukashka, not waiting for the boat, began undressing, his eyes fixed on his prey.
    “Wait! Nazarka is bringing the boat!” the sergeant called.
    “You fool!” another Cossack shouted. “The Chechen might just be pretending to be dead! Take your dagger with you!”
    “Nonsense!” Lukashka shouted back, taking off his trousers. He undressed, crossed himself, jumped into the water with a splash, and swam toward the shallows against the current, his white arms arcing high, his back rising out of the water. The Cossacks were talking loudly among themselves on the riverbank, and three mounted men rode off to patrol the area. The boat appeared at the bend in the river. Lukashka stood up in the shallows, bent over the body, and shook it twice. “He’s dead all right!” he called back sharply.
    The bullet had hit the Chechen in the head. He was wearing blue trousers, a shirt, and a Circassian coat, and had a gun and a dagger slung over his shoulder. There was also a large branch tied to his back, which at first had misled Lukashka.
    “That’s a big fish you’ve landed!” one of the Cossacks said as the Chechen’s body was pulled out of the boat and rolled onto the riverbank, pressing down the weeds.
    “How yellow he looks!” another Cossack said.
    “Where did our men go to hunt down the other Chechens?” a third asked. “I’m sure