The Salt Lake herald. [volume] (Salt Lake City [Utah]) 1870-1909, 1901-12-10
= a Scene in Russia. =
BY MAXIM GORKI

This is no fiction-mores the pity.
I witnessed the scene Of horror and
savageness here described in the VIII
lage Of Kandybowka. government of
Cherson, Russia, on July is, 1901. It's
a twentieth century tragedy, more's
the pity / repeat.
= 9 g
In the village street, past the dust
covered huts a procession! Slowly it
moves along, this peculiar procession.
attended by bowls and frantic yelis
and cat calls.
After it, like a great wave the peo-
pie stream and surge over the high
way At the head walks LITE
horse and a comically worn-out Jade
he is. His head is bent as if in sor-
row. When he raises one of his fore
legs his chin sinks down still lower,
as if the tongue was to lick the dust
When he raises another leg, his hind
quarters tremble and come down
the sorry brute looks as if he mi-ht
fall over and expire any moment
Beside the horse and like him
chained TO the thill-pole. ambles a
woman with uncertain step. A wo-
man? No, girl, rather. She is small
under developed and entirely naked
Her head, wreathed by masses Of
thick, dark-blonde, disheveled hair, is
held high and thrown back, her wide
open eyes stare into space with
look that has nothing human in IL.
Her body is a mass of blue and
black and red and yellow stains and
blotches. of round and oval welts
knots and humps, the left breast is
cut in several places, and blood
trickles from the wounds, marking
her path.
The blood has made a reddish stain
running from the heart across the
body and down the left leg to the
knee blood has also accumulated on
the top Of the foot. but there mercffuI
dust hides humanity's disgrace.
It looks as if some bully from a
medieval torture chamber had begun
TO flay this poor little body, but had
sickened at the task. Still, mercy was
only spasmOdic dweller in his black
soul Dropping the knife, he seized
knout to work off his fury on Gods
own likeness.
The girl cannot be an ordinary peas
ant woman, born and bred in poverty.
and degradation, for her feet are
small and slender. They don't seem to
touch the ground. There is indeed no
'---S-~ SAEbCAN ~ AltA Adt LA4Nr DlEeQ-
ing body. Gods will alone holds II up.
7 think.
The driver is a tall, stalwart peasant
in white blouse and black sheepskin
cap, allowing portions of his red.
straight hair to escape.
His left hand holds the reins, in his
right he swings a terrible scOurge. Hide
thy face. humanity. Beloved Christ
did'st thou die for a beast such as he2
The woman-bOrn brute lashes alter
nately horse and woman. front or
back, launches or head, it is all the
same to him. He acts methOdically.
maChine-like. A circular saw, I war
rant you. harbOrs finer sensibilities in
its heart of hearts, if we could only
read it!
The eyes Of the red-haired peasant
are blood shot; they sparkle with mis-
chief, cruelty. triumph. The eyes are
green and their color is intensified by
the red of his hair.
His blouse sleeves are rolled UP.
leaving his strong, muscular arms free
the arms Of a gorilla, thickly COW
cred with short red hair.
The peasants mouth is wide open,
showing yellow canine teeth. Every
little while he cries in a hoarse voice:
Get up, witch that thou artl Faster.
Don't be all day about it. We must
finish our twenty miles before dusk.
All, this" (meaning a stroke with the
whip was a good one. 1t struck the