Before the Wojski might begin to speak,
Gervasy had composed the quarrel; he
Went round the bear, observed it heedfully.
As last he drew his cutlass, and the muzzle
Severed in twain, and in the hinder part
Of the head, the substance of the brain dividing,
He found the ball. He drew it forth, and cleaned it
Upon his coat, then measured with the cartridge,
Adjusted to the gun, and then his hand
Uplifting, and the bullet in his hand:
“Sirs!” said he; “not from your guns is this ball.
It comes from this Horeszko single-barrel”—
Here raised he the old flint-lock, with a band
Engirdled round—“but ’twas not I that fired it.
Oh! that required courage; terrible
’Tis to remember! dark before my eyes
It seemed! For both young gentlemen were running
Straight towards me, and the bear was right behind,
Just, just above the Count’s head, last of the
Horeszkos, although by the spindle side.
‘Jesus! Maria!’ I cried, and the Lord’s angels
Sent to my help the Bernardine. He shamed us
All! O most valiant priest! While I was trembling,
And dared not touch the trigger, from my hands
He snatched the gun, took aim, and fired! Between
Two heads to fire! a hundred steps! not miss!
And in the very centre of the jaws
Thus beat the teeth in! Sirs, I long have lived,
But one man only have I seen who could
By such a shot have signalised himself.
That fellow once among us so renowned
For duelling, he who was used to shoot
The heels off women’s slippers;142 that same rascal
Above all rascals, memorable for aye,
That Jacek, vulgo Whiskered, I do not
Recall his surname! But ’tis now no time
For him to go a-hunting bears; no doubt
The villain to his very whiskers sits
In hell. But glory to the priest, for he
Has saved the lives of two men, and perhaps
Of three. Gervasy will not praise himself;
But had the last child of Horeszko’s blood
Fallen in the wild beast’s jaws, I should not now
Be in the world, and mine old bones the bear
Had gnawed. Come, priest, your Reverence’s health
We’ll drink.”143 In vain they sought the priest; they knew
So much alone, that when the beast was slain,
He for a moment showed himself; he sprang
Towards the Count and Thaddeus; and seeing
That both were whole and sound, he raised his eyes
To heaven, and said a silent prayer, and ran
Back quickly to the plains, as though pursued.
Meanwhile, by order of the Wojski, bundles
Of heather, twigs, and brushwood, in a pile
Were thrown. The fire bursts forth, and groweth up
A pine of smoke, and spreads itself aloft
In likeness of a canopy. Above
The flame they crossed two hunting spears at top.
Upon the points they hung a cauldron huge,
And from the wagons brought out vegetables,
And flour, and roasts, and bread. The Judge then opened
A lock-up bottle-case, wherein appeared
In rows white heads of bottles; he from them
Chose out the largest case of crystal; ’twas
A present from Friar Robak to the Judge,
’Twas Dantzig wódka, liquor dear to Poles.
“Long live,” exclaimed the Judge, and lifted high
The flask, “the town of Dantzig, once our own,
It shall be ours again!” and he poured out
The silvery liquor round, till at the end
The gold began to dribble,144 and to shine
In the sun’s light. The bigos in the kettles145
Was warming. It were hard to express in words
The wondrous taste of bigos, colour, and
Its wondrous odour. One may hear the sound
Of words, and sequences of rhymes, but yet
The citizen digestion cannot prize
Their substance; for, to value at the full
Litvanian songs and dishes, one must be
In health, live in the country, be returning
From hunting. Still, without these preparations,
Bigos is not a dish to be despised,
For it is artfully compounded of
The choicest vegetables; one must take
Chopped pickled cabbage, which, as says the proverb,
Goes of itself into the mouth; enclosed
Within a kettle, let its bosom moist
O’ercover chosen pieces of best meat;
And let it simmer till the fire express
All vital juices, till the boiling liquor
Spurts from the vessel’s borders, and the air
Around is with its odour redolent.
The bigos now was ready. All the huntsmen
With threefold vivat, armed with spoons, ran up,
And stirred the vessel. Roared the brass, the smoke
Burst forth, the bigos disappeared like camphor.
It vanished, fled; and in the cauldron’s mouths
The steam alone was boiling, as within
The crater of extinct volcanoes. When
They all had eat and drunk their fill, they mounted
On horseback. All were in high spirits, all
Were full of talk, except the Assessor and
The Regent. They were angrier now to-day
Than yesterday; they quarrelled with each other
About the virtues, one of his Sanguszko
Rifle, the other of his Sagalas.
The Count likewise, and Thaddeus unjoyful
Rode on, and felt ashamed because they missed
And had retired, for he in Litva who
Has let the beast escape the toils must labour
Long ere he may redeem his reputation.
The Count declared he first had seized the spear,
And Thaddeus would not let him meet the beast.
Thaddeus maintained, that being of the two
The stronger, and the better skilled to wield
A heavy spear, he would forestall the Count.
Thus talked they ’mid the murmur and the noise
Of all the throng. The Wojski in the centre
Rode; merry was the good old man beyond
His usual custom, full of conversation.
He, wishing to amuse the quarrellers,
And bring them to agree, the story of
Domejko and Dowejko ended thus:
“Assessor, if I wished that thou shouldst fight
A duel with the Regent, do not think
That I am eager after human blood.
Forbid it, Heaven! I wished but to amuse you,
To give you as it were a comedy,
And to renew that same conceit, which I
Imagined forty years ago—it was
Most excellent! You all are young, you do not
Remember this, but in my time it made
The forests loud ev’n to Podlachia’s woods.
“Domejko and Dowejko’s disputes
Came from a strange cause, likeness of their names
Most inconvenient! For in time of sejmiks,
When that Dowejko’s friends were gaining o’er
Supporters, some one whispered to a noble,
‘Vote for
