2. An Unknows Traveler

There was a reunion at the house of Danilo Tchabane. The evening was dark, the guests thoughtful and silent. The leaders themselves found it difficult to be cheerful. They looked at each other more than they conversed. It was evident that everyone felt the same anxiety.

From time to time Andry Krouk was asked: “Are the walls of Tchigurine strong enough to endure an assault? Are its defenders brave men? Will you read again the last proclamation of the chief? Some of us have not yet heard it. Do you know if there are many volunteers?”

Andry Krouk, evidently well informed on all these points, answered very readily. He described the ramparts of Tchigurine, its ditches, gates, and trenches like a man who had been there and had seen them all more than once, and very recently too.

When the men talked, the spinning-wheels stopped and the women listened anxiously. When the men smoked their pipes in silence, the women conversed in a low tone of voice.

“There has been another battle near Velika,” said one.

“How many killed?” asked Moghila.

“They have burnt Terny; the houses are nothing but cinders, and the village of Krinitza is still burning.”

“Do you know,” said a young girl, “do you know if?—”

But she could say no more; her lips grew white, her eyes filled with tears, while her teeth, closed by agony, prevented further speech.

An old woman, with a brown handkerchief over her head, from which escaped waves of beautiful gray hair, with a face rigid and white, and large black eyes sparkling like stars, said:

“My children are all dead. I am alone in the world. They said to me: ‘We are going to fight.’ I looked at them and answered: ‘Yes, my children!’ They added: ‘Ukraine will reconquer her independence,’ and I answered, again: ‘Yes, my children.’ All three died on the battle-field, and Ukraine is not free.”

“Ah!” said a young woman, “our friends are killed and nothing yet is gained by it. If one could only say to oneself: ‘ I die, but I leave to others that for which I fought.’”