Not all of the “serious minded,” however, were so outspoken as the indignant Little Russian. There were some men in the prison who aimed at superiority, at knowing all sorts of things, at showing resourcefulness, character and intelligence. Many of these really were men of intelligence and character, and did actually attain what they aimed at, that is, a leading position and a considerable moral influence over their companions. These clever fellows were often at daggers drawn with one another, and every one of them had many enemies. They looked down upon other convicts with dignity and condescension, they picked no unnecessary quarrels, were in favour with the authorities, and took the lead at work. Not one of them would have found fault with anyone for a song, for instance; they would not have stooped to such trifles. These men were very polite to me all the time I was in prison, but they were not very talkative, also apparently from a sense of dignity. I shall have to speak more in detail of them also.
We reached the riverbank. The old barge which we had to break up was frozen into the ice below us. On the further side of the river the steppes stretched blue into the distance, it was a gloomy and desert view. I expected that everyone would rush at the work, but they had no idea of doing so. Some sat down on the logs that lay about on the bank; almost all of them brought out of their boots bags of local tobacco which was sold at three farthings a pound in the market, and short willow pipes of home manufacture. They lighted their pipes; the soldiers formed a cordon round us and proceeded to guard us with a bored expression.
“Whose notion was it to break up this barge?” one observed as it were to himself, not addressing anyone. “Are they in want of chips?”
“He wasn’t afraid of our anger, whoever it was,” observed another.
“Where are those peasants trudging to?” the first asked after a pause, not noticing of course the answer to his first question, and pointing to a group of peasants who were making their way in Indian file over untrodden snow in the distance. Everyone turned lazily in that direction and to while away the time began mocking at them. One of the peasants, the last of the file, walked very absurdly, stretching out his arms and swinging his head on one side with a long peasant’s cap on it. His whole figure stood out clearly and distinctly against the white snow.
“Look how brother Peter has rigged himself out!” observed one mimicking the peasant accent.
It is remarkable that the convicts rather looked down on peasants, though half of them were of the peasant class.
“The last one, mates, walks as though he was sowing radishes.”
“He is a slow-witted fellow, he has a lot of money,” observed a third.
They all laughed, but lazily too, as it were reluctantly. Meantime a baker woman had come, a brisk lively woman.
They bought rolls of her for the five kopecks that had been given us and divided them in equal shares on the spot.
The young man who sold rolls in prison took two dozen and began a lively altercation, trying to get her to give him three rolls instead of the usual two as his commission. But the baker woman would not consent.
“Well, and won’t you give me something else?”
“What else?”
“What the mice don’t eat.”
“A plague take you,” shrieked the woman and laughed.
At last the sergeant who superintended the works came up with a stick in his hand.
“Hey, there, what are you sitting there for? Get to work?”
“Set us a task, Ivan Matveitch,” said one of the “leaders” slowly getting up from his place.
“Why didn’t you ask for it at the start? Break up the barge, that’s your task.”
At last they got up desultorily and slouched to the river. Some of them immediately took up the part of foreman, in words, anyway. It appeared that the barge was not to be broken up anyhow, but the timber was to be kept as whole as possible, especially the crossway beams which were fixed to the bottom of the barge by wooden bolts along their whole length.
“We ought first of all to get out this beam. Set to this, lads,” observed one of the convicts who had not spoken before, a quiet and unassuming fellow, not one of the leading or ruling spirits; and stooping down he got hold of a thick beam, waiting for the others to help him. But nobody did help him.
“Get it up, no fear! You won’t get it up and if your grandfather the bear came along, he wouldn’t,” muttered someone between his teeth.
“Well then, brothers, how are we to begin? I don’t know …” said the puzzled man who had put himself forward, letting go the beam and getting on to his feet again.
“Work your hardest you’ll never be done … why put yourself forward?”
“He could not feed three hens without making a mistake, and now he is to be first. … The fidget!”
“I didn’t mean anything, mates …” the disconcerted youth tried to explain.
“Do you want me to keep covers over you all? Or to keep you in pickle through the winter?” shouted the sergeant again, looking in perplexity at the crowd of twenty convicts who stood not knowing how to set to work. “Begin! Make haste!”
“You can’t do things quicker than you can, Ivan Matveitch.”
“Why, but you are doing nothing! Hey, Savelyev! Talky Petrovitch ought to be your name! I ask you, why are you standing there, rolling your eyes! Set to work!”
“But what can I do alone?”
“Set us a task, Ivan Matveitch.”
“You’ve been told you won’t have a task. Break up the barge and go home.
