# Anna Karenina (Dole)/Part Six/Chapter 9

CHAPTER IX
"Well, what's our line of march? Give us a good idea of it," said Stepan Arkadyevitch.
"This is my plan: we will go first to Gvozdevo. Just this side of Gvozdevo is a snipe marsh, but on the other side of Gvozdevo extend splendid woodcock marshes, and there'll be game there. It 's hot now, but toward the cool of the day—it 's twenty versts from here—we will try the field. We will spend the night there, and then to-morrow we will strike into the great marshes."
"But isn't there anything on the way?"
"Yes, but it would delay us, and it is too hot. There are two splendid little places, but it is hardly worth while."
It was Levin's intention to attack these places, but as they were near home, he could go there at any time, and as they were small he thought that three hunters were too many. Therefore, he prevaricated when he said that it was hardly worth while.
When they came up to the little marsh. Levin was proposing to drive by; but Stepan Arkadyevitch, with the experienced eye of a huntsman, immediately saw the water-soaked ground which was visible from the road.
"Shan't we try that?" he asked, pointing to the marsh.
​"Levin, please stop, how splendid!" Vasenka Veslovsky began to beg, and Levin could not well refuse.
Before they had fairly stopped, the dogs, in eager emulation, darted into the marsh.
"Krak!.... Laska!" ....
The dogs turned back.
"There won't be room enough for three. I will wait here," said Levin, hoping that they would not find anything except lapwings, which flew up from in front of the dogs, and, as they skimmed away over the marshy ground, uttered the most mournful cries.
"No; come on, Levin, let us all go together," called Veslovsky.
"It's a fact, there isn't room. Back, Laska, back. You don't need more than one dog, do you?"
Levin remained by the lineïka and with jealousy in his heart watched the huntsmen, who were tramping through the whole bog. There was nothing in it, however, except moor-hens and lapwings, one of which Vasenka killed.
"Now you see that I gave you good advice about the marsh," said Levin. "It's only a waste of time."
"No, it's good fun all the same! Did you see?" exclaimed Vasenka, awkwardly climbing into the wagon with his gun and his lapwing in his hands. "Didn't I make a stunning good shot? Well, will it take long to get to the other one?"
Suddenly the horses plunged. Levin gave himself a violent bump on the head against some one's gun, and a shot went off. The gun really went off before, but it seemed to Levin the other way. It happened that Vasenka in uncocking his gun fired one barrel. The shot buried itself in the ground and no damage was done to any one. Stepan Arkadyevitch shook his head and laughed reproachfully at Veslovsky. But Levin had not the heart to rebuke him. In the first place, any reproach would seem to be called forth by a danger past and by the bump on his forehead; and in the second place, Veslovsky was so innocently filled with remorse and afterward laughed so good-naturedly and so con​tagiously over their common alarm that no one could help joining in.
When they reached the second marsh, which was of considerable size and sure to occupy much time, Levin advised not getting out. But Veslovsky again put in his entreaties. Again, since the marsh was not big enough for three, Levin, like a hospitable host, remained by the teams. As soon as they stopped, Laska darted off to the tussocks. Vasenka Veslovsky was the first to follow the dog. And before Stepan Arkadyevitch reached the wet ground a snipe flew up. Veslovsky missed it, and the bird flew over into an unmown meadow. But this snipe was predestined to be Veslovsky's. Krak again pointed it, and Veslovsky killed it and returned to the teams.
"Now you go, and I will stay by the horses," said he.
The huntsman's fever had by this time taken possession of Levin. He turned the reins over to Veslovsky and went into the swamp. Laska, who had been for some time pitifully whining and complaining at the inequality of fate, darted toward the tussock-filled bog which Levin knew so well, and to which Krak had not yet found his way.
"Why don't you hold her back?" cried Stepan Arkadyevitch.
"She won't scare them away," replied Levin, delighting in his dog and following after her.
As Laska went forward, the nearer she came to the tussocks the greater grew her gravity. A little marsh bird only for a second distracted her attention. She made one sweep around the tussocks, then began a second, but suddenly trembled and stood stock still.
"Come, Stiva, come," cried Levin, feeling how his heart was beginning to throb, and how, suddenly as if some bolt had slipped in his ears, all sounds, losing their sense of proportion, disconnectedly but distinctly began to come to him. He heard Stepan Arkadyevitch's steps, distinguishing them from the distant stamping of horses, he heard the crunching sound of a corner of a tussock torn away by the roots, and he could distinguish above ​it the whir of a woodcock's wings. He could also hear, not far behind him, a strange splashing in the water, but what it was he could not make out. Choosing a place for his feet, he moved toward the dog.
"Go on."
Not a snipe, but a woodcock, flew up from under the dog's nose. Levin raised his gun, but at the instant he aimed the same noise of splashing in the water grew louder and nearer, and together with it Veslovsky's voice loudly shouting something. Levin saw that he was aiming too far behind the woodcock, but still he fired.
Turning round to discover what made the noise. Levin saw that the horses attached to the katki were no longer in the road, but were in the swamp.
Veslovsky, desirous of watching the shooting, had driven down to the swamp and had entangled the horses.
"The devil take him," said Levin to himself, turning back to the entangled horses.
"Why did you drive in so far?" he asked dryly; and, summoning the coachman, he began to disengage the horses.
Levin was vexed because they had caused him to miss his shot, but still more so because neither Stepan Arkadyevitch nor Veslovsky would help him to unharness and get out the team; but the reason for this was that they had not the slightest comprehension of the art of harnessing.
Not vouchsafing Vasenka a single word in answer to his assurance that where he stood it was perfectly dry, Levin silently worked with the coachman to unhitch the horses. But afterward, warming up to the work, and noticing how zealously and assiduously Veslovsky dragged at the katki by its side and even broke a part of it off, Levin blamed himself because, under the influence of the feeling which he had had the evening before, he had been too cool toward Veslovsky, and he tried by especial friendliness to atone for his curtness.
When everything was brought to order again and the teams were on the highway, Levin gave orders to get the luncheon ready.
​"Bon appétit, bonne conscience. Ce poulet va tomber jusqu'au fond de mes bottes," exclaimed Vasenka, growing lively again, and employing a quaint French proverb, as he devoured his second chicken. "Now our misfortunes are ended; now everything will go on famously. Only as a punishment for my sin I must certainly sit on the driver's box. Isn't that so? hey?—No, no, I am a born Automedon. Just see how I will tool you along," he insisted, not letting go the reins when Levin asked him to give up to the coachman. "No, I must atone for my sin, and I like it immensely on the box." And he drove.
Levin was somewhat afraid that he would tire out the horses, especially the chestnut on the left, which he could not control; but reluctantly he gave in to his gayety, listened to the love-songs which Veslovsky, sitting on the box, sang all the way, or to his stories and personation of an Englishman driving a four-in-hand, and after they had enjoyed their luncheon they reached the marshes of Gvozdevo in the gayest possible spirits.