The Opelousas journal. [volume] (Opelousas, La.) 1868-1878, 1873-02-22

armed and alone through a mob of
Arab fanatics, and been examined for
classical hOnOrs at Oxford but I Ques-
ton very much whether, in all that con-
stitutes true courage, this rude, untrav-
elled, ignorant, semi i-savage with whom
| found myself so strangely associated,
was not far my superior. We Western
Europeans, enlightened to the verge of
scepticism, with the weird shadows of
mediacval superstition lying ages be-
hind us, naturally find it hard to see
any heroism i'll confronting an imagi-
mary peril; but, looked at from his own
point of view, the risk which Tchista-
rem 20 was about to run might have put
to shame many feat that has earned
its place in history. According to his
belief, he was about to do battle with r
monster OF preteTnatural strength and
ferOcity, gifted with unlimited capaci-
ties Of evil, and supported by the mani
fest Of Satan himself yet Ire was ready
to go forth against it, and fight with it,
might save those of his village from
harm" "This is a man worth knowing,''
thought to myself, as I looked ut the
COssackIs set lips and knitted brow, and
tried to imagine his feelings at the pros
pcct Of what he laid before him.
All that day TchistarenkO was very
quiet-going through his ordinary work
as methOdiCally as ever, but still wear
ing thoughtful, somewhat stern look,
as one upon whose mind grave interests
are weighing. 1t was characteristic of
the man that he never thought OF ask
ing whether | still intended to accom-
pany hiln-feeling certain that, having
once undertaken the adventure, could
have no thought OF drawing back.
Nor, indeed. hal,I; but, despite my ut
ter disbelief in the mythical "EOV-ku-
LAX" began to feel strangely excited
towards evening, as though the con-
tagiOn of TChistarenkO's grim super
stiti0n had infected me in spite of my
sci. Far down in the secret soul of the
hardest and most practical man alive
deny it as he wilD, there is still a hid
den fund of superstition, a lurking SYM
pathy with the unseen and unknown.
It was not without a secret thrill that,
turning round from the window,
through which had been TecOnnOiter-
ing the state of the snow, saw my COM
paniOn take down his long gun, and be-
gin to load it.
"Surely it's not time to start yet, Ia
CHAIR Timopheievitchw
"NOt for three hours more-but like
to have all ready.n
We relapsed into silence. The pale
gray light of the short winter day was
dying away from the great waste out
side, and a ghQstly dimness began to
creep over it. Night drew on-cold,
ilreaTy, dismal an utter desOlatiOn, an
immense silence, as if the world itself
were dead, and only we two kept living,
living on. And there was something in
this blank, overwhelming stiffness in
finitely more weird and CHASTITY than
all the uproar of the preceding night.
Sour game will be abroad tonight,
never fear said TchistarenkO, in a
h0arse whisper. Folks say the devil
loves a storn1-but that is not true it is
when all is calm, and men are not ex-
pecting him, that he pornces upon
themw
Our evening meal was dispatched in
utter silence; and the moment We had
finished, the COssack stuck his knife il
his belt, slung his gun over his should
ers, bowed. his head toward the little
picture of his patron saint with a few
muttered words of feryent prayer; and
then, turning to me, said simply: " | an
readyw
We sailed forth in Silence. BY this
time was so dark that I had to gropt
my way but to the unerring instincts
of my companion, night and day were
alike. Bidding me keep fast hold Of
his shOulder-strap, he went on swiftly
| and surely as 4 bloodhound, through the
silent village. Ever and anon, CLEAN
OF light from the windows of q hui
| flashed into momentary relief the skel
etOn limbs of frozen trees, starting III
from 4hn anOu- onH hI1ro drifts hon Osir
over us as if already topping to crlsl
| us in their fall; and the utter silence
and desOlation of this dreary marcl
| through the darkness, the grim taciturni
| ty of my guide, the mysterious hOrrOl
| of the work that lay before us, began tt
weigh upon me like nightmare. A
length, as we left the last hut behind lis
and reached the border of the vas
| trackless waste beyond, pale shadow
gleam, struggling through the great mas
| of blackness that lowered overhead, be
tOkened the rising of the moon.
"See ~ cried the devout Russian, il
| a tone of stern triumph, "GOd has Ii
| His candle for us, that, we may over
throw the spirits Of darkness! Now, Pan
| this is the place; you get behind tha
stone, and I'll get behind this one; ant
| then let it be as God wills! This is al
aceursed place, and the evil creatur,
| will be sure to pass through it."
Looked round with start of sudde1
recognition, and could but admire tn
stubborn bravery which had prompted
this iron man TO select deliberately fO
his place Of ambush spot which mus
have been more terrible to him than
battery. It was q deep gully, or rathe
fOsse, barrel y wide enough for two mel
to walk abreast, and tlanked by tWt
enormous houlders about five pace
apart-one-half upright, the other fla
on the ground and, both bearing
man shape, which was hideorisiy exag
gerated by the fitful moonlight. Ac
| cOrding to the weird popular legend
which | had already heard from tn
lips of a village patriarch, the recum
bent block was the transformed figur
of a traveller lost in the snow, who's
cries had attracted to the spot passinj
| wOodman; but the latter, instead O
lending any assistance, was just abou
to murder and rife the helpless man
when the vengeance of heaven termi
mated his own life, and left him to b
an enduring monument of divine retri
button. The peculiar attitude of tn
two masses-the one lying prostrate
the other apparently straining toward
lis still appealed to by the Deasantry i
confirmation of the dismal story; an
4 bribe of fifty roubles would not EN-
bOlden the bravest man i'm the PROVING
to approach the, fatal spot after night
fall. Here, therefore [as If in orde
that no element, of horror might b
/ wanting to this fearful milOdrama), w
took up our post, and covering behinC
the fatal bOulders, awaited in grim 81
lenee the coming of our mysterious enc
my. .s ,'..
Hark! what sound is that. whic,
comes moaning over the great waste
| And FhnPn nryoin aFd nnns,3r, =. and NOV