Childhood, Boyhood, Youth

by Leo Tolstoy

  bundles of soiled rags and heavy bast shoes. Moving their staffs in

  regular rhythm, and scarcely throwing us a glance, they pressed onwards

  with heavy tread and in single file.

  "Where have they come from?" I wondered to myself, "and whither are they

  bound? Is it a long pilgrimage they are making?" But soon the shadows

  they cast on the road became indistinguishable from the shadows of the

  bushes which they passed.

  Next a carriage-and-four could be seen approaching us. In two seconds

  the faces which looked out at us from it with smiling curiosity had

  vanished. How strange it seemed that those faces should have nothing

  in common with me, and that in all probability they would never meet my

  eyes again!

  Next came a pair of post-horses, with the traces looped up to their

  collars. On one of them a young postillion-his lamb's wool cap cocked to

  one side-was negligently kicking his booted legs against the flanks

  of his steed as he sang a melancholy ditty. Yet his face and attitude

  seemed to me to express such perfect carelessness and indolent ease that

  I imagined it to be the height of happiness to be a postillion and to

  sing melancholy songs.

  Far off, through a cutting in the road, there soon stood out against

  the light-blue sky, the green roof of a village church. Presently the

  village itself became visible, together with the roof of the manor-house

  and the garden attached to it. Who lived in that house? Children,

  parents, teachers? Why should we not call there and make the

  acquaintance of its inmates?

  Next we overtook a file of loaded waggons--a procession to which our

  vehicles had to yield the road.

  "What have you got in there?" asked Vassili of one waggoner who was

  dangling his legs lazily over the splashboard of his conveyance and

  flicking his whip about as he gazed at us with a stolid, vacant look;

  but he only made answer when we were too far off to catch what he said.

  "And what have YOU got?" asked Vassili of a second waggoner who was

  lying at full length under a new rug on the driving-seat of his vehicle.

  The red poll and red face beneath it lifted themselves up for a

  second from the folds of the rug, measured our britchka with a cold,

  contemptuous look, and lay down again; whereupon I concluded that the

  driver was wondering to himself who we were, whence we had come, and

  whither we were going.

  These various objects of interest had absorbed so much of my time that,

  as yet, I had paid no attention to the crooked figures on the verst

  posts as we passed them in rapid succession; but in time the sun began

  to burn my head and back, the road to become increasingly dusty, the

  impedimenta in the carriage to grow more and more uncomfortable, and

  myself to feel more and more cramped. Consequently, I relapsed into

  devoting my whole faculties to the distance-posts and their numerals,

  and to solving difficult mathematical problems for reckoning the time

  when we should arrive at the next posting-house.

  "Twelve versts are a third of thirty-six, and in all there are forty-one

  to Lipetz. We have done a third and how much, then?", and so forth, and

  so forth.

  "Vassili," was my next remark, on observing that he was beginning to nod

  on the box-seat, "suppose we change seats? Will you?" Vassili agreed,

  and had no sooner stretched himself out in the body of the vehicle than

  he began to snore. To me on my new perch, however, a most interesting

  spectacle now became visible--namely, our horses, all of which were

  familiar to me down to the smallest detail.

  "Why is Diashak on the right today, Philip, not on the left?" I asked

  knowingly. "And Nerusinka is not doing her proper share of the pulling."

  "One could not put Diashak on the left," replied Philip, altogether

  ignoring my last remark. "He is not the kind of horse to put there at

  all. A horse like the one on the left now is the right kind of one for

  the job."

  After this fragment of eloquence, Philip turned towards Diashak and

  began to do his best to worry the poor animal by jogging at the reins,

  in spite of the fact that Diashak was doing well and dragging the

  vehicle almost unaided. This Philip continued to do until he found it

  convenient to breathe and rest himself awhile and to settle his cap

  askew, though it had looked well enough before.

  I profited by the opportunity to ask him to let me have the reins

  to hold, until, the whole six in my hand, as well as the whip, I had

  attained complete happiness. Several times I asked whether I was doing

  things right, but, as usual, Philip was never satisfied, and soon

  destroyed my felicity.

  The heat increased until a hand showed itself at the carriage window,

  and waved a bottle and a parcel of eatables; whereupon Vassili leapt

  briskly from the britchka, and ran forward to get us something to eat

  and drink.

  When we arrived at a steep descent, we all got out and ran down it to

  a little bridge, while Vassili and Jakoff followed, supporting the

  carriage on either side, as though to hold it up in the event of its

  threatening to upset.

  After that, Mimi gave permission for a change of seats, and sometimes

  Woloda or myself would ride in the carriage, and Lubotshka or Katenka

  in the britchka. This arrangement greatly pleased the girls, since much

  more fun went on in the britchka. Just when the day was at its hottest,

  we got out at a wood, and, breaking off a quantity of branches,

  transformed our vehicle into a bower. This travelling arbour then

  bustled on to catch the carriage up, and had the effect of exciting

  Lubotshka to one of those piercing shrieks of delight which she was in

  the habit of occasionally emitting.

  At last we drew near the village where we were to halt and dine. Already

  we could perceive the smell of the place--the smell of smoke and tar

  and sheep-and distinguish the sound of voices, footsteps, and carts. The

  bells on our horses began to ring less clearly than they had done in

  the open country, and on both sides the road became lined with

  huts--dwellings with straw roofs, carved porches, and small red or green

  painted shutters to the windows, through which, here and there, was a

  woman's face looking inquisitively out. Peasant children clad in smocks

  only stood staring open-eyed or, stretching out their arms to us, ran

  barefooted through the dust to climb on to the luggage behind, despite

  Philip's menacing gestures. Likewise, red-haired waiters came darting

  around the carriages to invite us, with words and signs, to select their

  several hostelries as our halting-place.

  Presently a gate creaked, and we entered a courtyard. Four hours of rest

  and liberty now awaited us.

  II. THE THUNDERSTORM

  The sun was sinking towards the west, and his long, hot rays were

  burning my neck and cheeks beyond endurance, while thick clouds of dust

  were rising from the road and filling the whole air. Not the slightest

  wind was there to carry it away. I could not think what to do. Neither

  the dust-blackened fac
e of Woloda dozing in a corner, nor the motion of

  Philip's back, nor the long shadow of our britchka as it came bowling

  along behind us brought me any relief. I concentrated my whole attention

  upon the distance-posts ahead and the clouds which, hitherto dispersed

  over the sky, were now assuming a menacing blackness, and beginning to

  form themselves into a single solid mass.

  From time to time distant thunder could be heard--a circumstance which

  greatly increased my impatience to arrive at the inn where we were

  to spend the night. A thunderstorm always communicated to me an

  inexpressibly oppressive feeling of fear and gloom.

  Yet we were still ten versts from the next village, and in the meanwhile

  the large purple cloudbank--arisen from no one knows where--was

  advancing steadily towards us. The sun, not yet obscured, was picking

  out its fuscous shape with dazzling light, and marking its front with

  grey stripes running right down to the horizon. At intervals, vivid

  lightning could be seen in the distance, followed by low rumbles which

  increased steadily in volume until they merged into a prolonged roll

  which seemed to embrace the entire heavens. At length, Vassili got up

  and covered over the britchka, the coachman wrapped himself up in

  his cloak and lifted his cap to make the sign of the cross at each

  successive thunderclap, and the horses pricked up their ears and

  snorted as though to drink in the fresh air which the flying clouds were

  outdistancing. The britchka began to roll more swiftly along the dusty

  road, and I felt uneasy, and as though the blood were coursing more

  quickly through my veins. Soon the clouds had veiled the face of

  the sun, and though he threw a last gleam of light to the dark and

  terrifying horizon, he had no choice but to disappear behind them.

  Suddenly everything around us seemed changed, and assumed a gloomy

  aspect. A wood of aspen trees which we were passing seemed to be all

  in a tremble, with its leaves showing white against the dark lilac

  background of the clouds, murmuring together in an agitated manner. The

  tops of the larger trees began to bend to and fro, and dried leaves

  and grass to whirl about in eddies over the road. Swallows and

  white-breasted swifts came darting around the britchka and even passing

  in front of the forelegs of the horses. While rooks, despite their

  outstretched wings, were laid, as it were, on their keels by the wind.

  Finally, the leather apron which covered us began to flutter about and

  to beat against the sides of the conveyance.

  The lightning flashed right into the britchka as, cleaving the obscurity

  for a second, it lit up the grey cloth and silk galloon of the lining

  and Woloda's figure pressed back into a corner.

  Next came a terrible sound which, rising higher and higher, and

  spreading further and further, increased until it reached its climax in

  a deafening thunderclap which made us tremble and hold our breaths. "The

  wrath of God"--what poetry there is in that simple popular conception!

  The pace of the vehicle was continually increasing, and from Philip's

  and Vassili's backs (the former was tugging furiously at the reins) I

  could see that they too were alarmed.

  Bowling rapidly down an incline, the britchka cannoned violently against

  a wooden bridge at the bottom. I dared not stir and expected destruction

  every moment.

  Crack! A trace had given way, and, in spite of the ceaseless, deafening

  thunderclaps, we had to pull up on the bridge.

  Leaning my head despairingly against the side of the britchka, I

  followed with a beating heart the movements of Philip's great black

  fingers as he tied up the broken trace and, with hands and the butt-end

  of the whip, pushed the harness vigorously back into its place.

  My sense of terror was increasing with the violence of the thunder.

  Indeed, at the moment of supreme silence which generally precedes the

  greatest intensity of a storm, it mounted to such a height that I felt

  as though another quarter of an hour of this emotion would kill me.

  Just then there appeared from beneath the bridge a human being who, clad

  in a torn, filthy smock, and supported on a pair of thin shanks bare of

  muscles, thrust an idiotic face, a tremulous, bare, shaven head, and a

  pair of red, shining stumps in place of hands into the britchka.

  "M-my lord! A copeck for--for God's sake!" groaned a feeble voice as

  at each word the wretched being made the sign of the cross and bowed

  himself to the ground.

  I cannot describe the chill feeling of horror which penetrated my heart

  at that moment. A shudder crept through all my hair, and my eyes stared

  in vacant terror at the outcast.

  Vassili, who was charged with the apportioning of alms during the

  journey, was busy helping Philip, and only when everything had been put

  straight and Philip had resumed the reins again had he time to look for

  his purse. Hardly had the britchka begun to move when a blinding flash

  filled the welkin with a blaze of light which brought the horses to

  their haunches. Then, the flash was followed by such an ear-splitting

  roar that the very vault of heaven seemed to be descending upon our

  heads. The wind blew harder than ever, and Vassili's cloak, the manes

  and tails of the horses, and the carriage-apron were all slanted in one

  direction as they waved furiously in the violent blast.

  Presently, upon the britchka's top there fell some large drops of

  rain--"one, two, three:" then suddenly, and as though a roll of drums

  were being beaten over our heads, the whole countryside resounded with

  the clatter of the deluge.

  From Vassili's movements, I could see that he had now got his purse

  open, and that the poor outcast was still bowing and making the sign of

  the cross as he ran beside the wheels of the vehicle, at the imminent

  risk of being run over, and reiterated from time to time his plea,

  "For-for God's sake!" At last a copeck rolled upon the ground, and the

  miserable creature--his mutilated arms, with their sleeves wet through

  and through, held out before him--stopped perplexed in the roadway and

  vanished from my sight.

  The heavy rain, driven before the tempestuous wind, poured down in

  pailfuls and, dripping from Vassili's thick cloak, formed a series of

  pools on the apron. The dust became changed to a paste which clung to

  the wheels, and the ruts became transformed into muddy rivulets.

  At last, however, the lightning grew paler and more diffuse, and the

  thunderclaps lost some of their terror amid the monotonous rattling

  of the downpour. Then the rain also abated, and the clouds began to

  disperse. In the region of the sun, a lightness appeared, and between

  the white-grey clouds could be caught glimpses of an azure sky.

  Finally, a dazzling ray shot across the pools on the road, shot through

  the threads of rain--now falling thin and straight, as from a sieve--,

  and fell upon the fresh leaves and blades of grass. The great cloud was

  still louring black and threatening on the far horizon, but I no longer

  felt afraid of it--I felt only an i
nexpressibly pleasant hopefulness in

  proportion, as trust in life replaced the late burden of fear. Indeed,

  my heart was smiling like that of refreshed, revivified Nature herself.

  Vassili took off his cloak and wrung the water from it. Woloda flung

  back the apron, and I stood up in the britchka to drink in the new,

  fresh, balm-laden air. In front of us was the carriage, rolling along

  and looking as wet and resplendent in the sunlight as though it had just

  been polished. On one side of the road boundless oatfields, intersected

  in places by small ravines which now showed bright with their moist

  earth and greenery, stretched to the far horizon like a checkered

  carpet, while on the other side of us an aspen wood, intermingled with

  hazel bushes, and parquetted with wild thyme in joyous profusion, no

  longer rustled and trembled, but slowly dropped rich, sparkling diamonds

  from its newly-bathed branches on to the withered leaves of last year.

  From above us, from every side, came the happy songs of little birds

  calling to one another among the dripping brushwood, while clear from

  the inmost depths of the wood sounded the voice of the cuckoo. So

  delicious was the wondrous scent of the wood, the scent which follows

  a thunderstorm in spring, the scent of birch-trees, violets, mushrooms,

  and thyme, that I could no longer remain in the britchka. Jumping out,

  I ran to some bushes, and, regardless of the showers of drops discharged

  upon me, tore off a few sprigs of thyme, and buried my face in them to

  smell their glorious scent.

  Then, despite the mud which had got into my boots, as also the fact that

  my stockings were soaked, I went skipping through the puddles to the

  window of the carriage.

  "Lubotshka! Katenka!" I shouted as I handed them some of the thyme,