Chapter 1 (Fragment)

Joyously the horns announced their first victory. They dragged the beast out into a clearing, skinned him and then pressed further into the jungle. The sun had risen high into the heavens, diffusing its rays between the branches like skeins of golden silk. The huntsmen proceeded now in a more confident manner, complimenting themselves upon their intrepidity, strength and prowess.

“Although I am just a wolf, one of the lesser beasts,” joked Tuhar boastfully, “I can still do justice to a Tukholian bear.” Maxim, listening to this ostentatious speech, could not understand himself why all at once he should feel so sorry for the Tukholian bear.

“Very stupid of the bears,” he remarked at last, “to defend themselves singly. Now if only a few of them got together, it’s doubtful whether even a whole pack of wolves could do anything to them.”

Tuhar glanced at him angrily, but made no attempt to answer. The huntsmen pressed on, climbing over fallen timber, leaping from stump to stump, often falling into piles of heaped up, dusty dry branches and touchwood.

In the middle of this primeval fastness of giant forest growth, piled up brushy tangles and rock fragments, they found the bear trails, narrow but well-trodden from centuries of use, thickly strewn with the bleached bones of sheep, goats and other domesticated animals.

Maxim now kept to the rear of the company of boyars, constantly making sure that each man maintained his position, examining the narrow paths for signs of fresh tracks, urging on and helping those who were tired. He alone showed no signs of fatigue.

Peace-Renown observed him with a mingling of wonder and admiration whenever he chanced to pass by her. Although she had certainly seen many brave and sturdy young men, she had never met anyone like Maxim who combined within his person not only the robust vigor of a peasant worker but also the intelligence and capabilities of a leader.

There was a sudden crackling of dry twigs and out from behind a pile of branches jumped a grizzly. At first, he ran on all fours, but perceiving his enemies, he reared up on his hind legs, seized a storm-uprooted sapling in his forepaws and swinging it around him advanced menacingly, growling intermittently. Directly in front of him in the line of march were two mountain boyars who had been the most loudly boastful, anxious to show off before the company how much they knew.

Seeing the dreadful enemy so close to them, they trembled and blanched with dismay, but were ashamed to run and hide. They had to face the situation no matter what the outcome might be. Two arrows from two bows shot out at once. One missed, whistling by the bear’s ears and the other struck the beast’s side, not wounding as much as enraging him.

Taking a mighty leap into the air, the bear flung his weapon, the beech tree, at one of his assailants, just missing him and striking a tree near-by a glancing blow.