San Antonio daily light. [volume] (San Antonio, Tex.) 1886-1907, 1886-05-07

But the KosaEs answered him as with one
voice, which rises and Swells like the rolling
of thunder:
TO whom should we intrust ourselves if
not to thee, Father Attaman? Is there an
other man who can WELD his lance as thou
canst, as lightly as a clerk wields his pen?
Whose sword can ike thine make the enc
mics heads 10 drop like OverbIOwn poppy
flowers? What other can swim like the wild
duck, and dive like the otter under the waves
of the Dnieper? Which man knows better
how TO castigate a rebel with the fiat Of the
brOadsword? And who can lead us as thou
hast done many time in the wild dance
against the Tartar hOrdeS? Lead us now
against the infdel Turk; we will have no
other Attaman but Kunicki!'
and they pressed around him, embracing
his feet and his knees: they raise him on
their shoulders, eXclaiming, GLORY be to
God! Long live our Attaman! Long live
the KOsaks! Death 10 the mfidelSw till the
banks OF the river Te-echO for miles around
with the sound of their cries.
When at length Kuncki has extracted
himself from their embrace he speaks again:
80 be it, my brothers; we shall start with
the early dawn, and be far on our way ere
time of war the drink of KoSak is water,
and his food dry bread and sailed fish. Be-
fore the forty days Of Ienten fasting even
the monks are allowed 10 eat and make mer-
ry, and God alone knows how long our Lent
may last. Master YeSsOul, deal out the
mead the spirits, and the provisions among
our K0sak brothers; let each one feast and
rejoice to-day, for who can tell what tO-mOr-
row may bring?'
Provisions and drink are distributed among
the soldiers; large bOnfires, kindled on the
river banks, illumine the country far around,
painting each warlike face with ruddy glow,
catching the Furnished point of each shining
lance, and filling the gloomy river with the
crimson light of the dancing flames. On the
fires are placed gigantic cadrOns full of
steaming millet cruel, huge quarters of pork
are set roasting on the spitS, while glittering
heaps of silver tenCh. scarce withdrawn from
the waves, lie waiting to be watered down
with draughtS of sparkling mead; and large
sacks of dried pluuS, cmptied on to the
ground, fill the air with their fragrance re-
jOicing the warriors hearts For the KOSak
finds no fruit as sweet is the purple plum, no
pOtage to be compared to milet cruel, no
meat as sayOry rs pork, nor fish as delicate
as the tench And the Tepast being ready,
they gather round the fires in groups: the
horns are filled to overlooking with fiery
spirits, and frOthy mead sparkles in every
goblet. They eat and drink, and laugh and
shout, and make merry; and the Attaman
eats and drinks and makes merry with the
rest: but every now and then his eye wan
derS from the glowing fire and the good cheer
spread before him, and he holds the goblet
unemptied in his hand, while his gaze search
Is the far horizon.
As the night grows darker the merriment
wakes faster and more furious horns are
emptied with lightning like rapidity: the At
taman is pressed to sing, and the KOSaks Join
in the chorus. Then they dance their ia.
tiOnal dance, each man with his hands on
the launches; they bound, they stamp, they
clank their spurs together till the ground
uembles and the voice of the mighty river is
no longer heard. Agile as frogs, alternately
crOuching on the ground and leaping into the
air, their plaits of hair swing backward and
forward with every movement, heads and
heels change place with incOnceiyable swift
ness, till many n one drops asleep in the
midst OF sOmerS3ult
By the time the stars are all shining in the
heavens, the riverside is thicIly Strewn with
PROSTATE figures; and except for one or other
who murmurs in his dreams curses against
the infidel Turk, there is silence in the camp.
Then the Attaman rises slowly from beside
the lOw-bumng camp fire, and stepping eau
tiOusly through the ranks of slumberng
warriors, goes to rouse his faithful steed and
though he has been dancing and making
merry, his eye is not drOwsy; and though he
has quaffed of the spirits and of the mead
his step is not unsteady.
He mounts and speeds along faster than
the wind by the banks of the river; faster
and yet faster where the waters, cleaning
pale in the starlight, murmur and sob mid
the reeds, and nothing living is astir save the
wild fowl, startled, pcrchance from her nest.