The heavens were a glorious, , impenetrable blue; there was a faint of greenish light on the Western horizon over which brooded damp low clouds. The air was humid, soft, and redolent with the of earth and melting snow. From all around came a faint of echoing sounds…. The wind fell completely, not a tree stirred; the ferns stood motionless with all the magic of the springtime among their roots. So calm and still was the night, the earth herself, it seemed, stopped turning in that wonderful stillness.
Ivanov lighted a cigarette, and as the match between his fingers, his black beard, his trembling hands were distinctly visible. His pointer Gek came out of the darkness and round his legs.
Through the darkness of the windless night rang the church bell for the last Gospel Service; it seemed to just outside the . The yard was silent, but once or twice Aganka's voice could be heard from the cattle-shed calling to the cows, and the sound of milk falling into her pail was faintly audible.
Ivanov listened to the church chimes and the sounds of night round the manor, then noiselessly, well accustomed to the obscurity, he the steps; only Gek was at his side, the other dogs did not hear him.
Cold raindrops fell from the trees in tiny shining globules of light, close by him an fluttered in a of branches, uttering its dreadful cry of joy as it flashed past.
Ivanov walked through the fields, descended by a chalky ribbon of a to the ravine, crossed over it by a narrow shadow-dappled pathway hidden among a of trees, and made his way along its further to a forest watch-house. It stood in a bare open space, exposed to the swift rushing Dance of the Winds, and close to the naked trunks of three ancient pines that still reared their grim, shaggy heads to the sky and spilled their balsam perfumes into the air. Behind it the faint grey shadow of an embankment.
A dog at the watch-house began to bark. Gek in return and suddenly disappeared. The dogs became silent. A man appeared on the step with a lantern.
"Who is there?" he asked quietly.
"It is I," said Ivanov.
"You, Sergius Mitrich?… Aha! But Arina is still at church … went off there … busy with her nonsense." The watchman paused. "Shall I go in and turn off the light? The express will soon be passing. Will you come in? Arina will be back before long. The wife's at home."
"No, I'm going into the forest."
"As you wish." The watchman passed along the embankment with his lantern and approached the bridge.
Ivanov left the watch-house, and went into the forest, walking along the edge of the ravine towards the river slope. A train rushed out from the forest on the further side of the river, its flaming eyes reflected in the dark shiny water; it moved forward, rolling loudly and harshly over the bridge.
It was that hour of spring-time when, despite the many noises, there was still an atmosphere of peace, and the , luxuriantly- clad earth could almost be heard breathing as it absorbed the vernal moisture; the clash of the stream as it struck the rocks in the ravine was hushed for the night. Nevertheless it seemed as though the bold-browed, wood-demon—awakened by spring—was shaking his wings in the water.
Beyond the ravine and wood, beyond the river to the right, left, behind, and before, the birds still chirruped over the currents. Below, not many steps away, the stream flowed almost noiselessly; only, as though immeasurably remote the confused gurgle of its waters broke the profound quiet. Far away rose a soft . The air hummed and shook with the roar of distant rapids.
Ivanov leaned against a birch tree, laid his rifle beside him, struck a match and began to smoke. The light the white trunks of the trees, the herbage of last year's growth and a path leading down t............