“How is this—are we going to the Turks?” asked one of another. But these were not “gracious gentlemen” of the general militia, ready to summon a meeting and protest, they were simple soldiers inured to the iron discipline of stanitsas; hence the men of the first rank urged their horses into the water after the commandant, and then those in the second and third did the same. There was not the least hesitation. They were astonished that, with three hundred horse, they were marching against the Turkish power, which the whole world could not conquer; but they went. Soon the water was plashing around the horses’ sides; the men ceased to wonder then, and were thinking simply of this, that the sacks of food for themselves and the horses should not get wet. Only on the other bank did they begin to look at one another again.
“For God’s sake, we are in Moldavia already!” said they, in quiet whispers.
And one or another looked behind, beyond the Dniester, which glittered in the setting sun like a red and golden ribbon. The river cliffs, full of caves, were bathed also in the bright gleams. They rose like a wall, which at that moment divided that handful of men from their country. For many of them it was indeed the last parting.
The thought went through Lusnia’s head that maybe the commandant had gone mad; but it was the commandant’s affair to command, his to obey.
Meanwhile the horses, issuing from the water, began to snort terribly in the ranks. “Good health! good health!” was heard from the soldiers. They considered the snorting of good omen, and a certain consolation entered their hearts.
“Move on!” commanded Pan Adam.
The ranks moved, and they went toward the setting sun and toward those thousands, to that swarm of people, to those nations gathered at Kuchunkaury.
XLIX
Pan Adam’s passage of the Dniester, and his march with three hundred sabres against the power of the Sultan, which numbered hundreds of thousands of warriors, were deeds which a man unacquainted with war might consider pure madness; but they were only bold, daring deeds of war, having chances of success.
To begin with, raiders of those days went frequently against chambuls a hundred times superior in numbers; they stood before the eyes of the enemy, and then vanished, cutting down pursuers savagely. Just as a wolf entices dogs after him at times, to turn at the right moment and kill the dog pushing forward most daringly, so did they. In the twinkle of an eye the beast became the hunter, started, hid, waited, but though pursued, hunted too, attacked unexpectedly, and bit to death. That was the so-called “method with Tartars,” in which each side vied with the other in stratagems, tricks, and ambushes. The most famous man in this method was Pan Michael, next to him Pan Rushchyts, then Pan Pivo, then Pan Motovidlo; but Novoveski, practising from boyhood in the steppes, belonged to those who were mentioned among the most famous, hence it was very likely that when he stood before the horde he would not let himself be taken.
The expedition had chances of success too, for the reason that beyond the Dniester there were wild regions in which it was easy to hide. Only here and there, along the rivers, did settlements show themselves, and in general the country was little inhabited; nearer the Dniester it was rocky and hilly; farther on there were steppes, or the land was covered with forests, in which numerous herds of beasts wandered, from buffaloes, run wild, to deer and wild boars. Since the Sultan wished before the expedition “to feel his power and calculate his forces,” the hordes dwelling on the lower Dniester, those of Belgrod, and still farther those of Dobrudja, marched at command of the Padishah to the south of the Balkans, and after them followed the Karalash of Moldavia, so that the country had become still more deserted, and it was possible to travel whole weeks without being seen by any person.
Pan Adam knew Tartar customs too well not to know that when the chambuls had once passed the boundary of the Commonwealth they would move more warily, keeping diligent watch on all sides; but there in their own country they would go in broad columns without any precaution. And they did so, in fact; there seemed to the Tartars a greater chance to meet death than to meet in the heart of Bessarabia, on the very Tartar boundary, the troops of that Commonwealth which had not men enough to defend its own borders.
Pan Adam was confident that his expedition would astonish the enemy first of all, and hence do more good than the hetman had hoped; secondly, that it might be destructive to Azya and his men. It was easy for the young lieutenant to divine that they, since they knew the Commonwealth thoroughly, would march in the vanguard, and he placed his main hope in that certainty. To fall unexpectedly on Azya and seize him, to rescue perhaps his sister and Zosia, to snatch them from captivity, accomplish his vengeance, and then perish in war, was all that the distracted soul of Novoveski wished for.
Under the influence of these thoughts and hopes. Pan Adam freed himself from torpor, and revived. His march along unknown ways, arduous labor, the sweeping wind of the steppes, and the dangers of the bold undertaking increased his health, and brought back his former strength. The warrior began to overcome in him the man of misfortune. Before that, there had been no place in him for anything except memories and suffering; now he had to think whole days of how he was to deceive and attack.
After they had passed the
