Lev Tolstoy
A PRISONER IN THE CAUCASUS
A true story
1
A certain gentleman,whose name was Zhilin, was serving in the Caucasus as an officer.
One day he received aletter from home. His aging mother wrote, ‘ I have grown old, and should liketo see my beloved son before I die. Come and bid adieu to me, bury me, thenreturn to your service, and may God be with you. I have found a bride for youwho is both clever and pretty, and landed too. If you like her, perhaps youwill marry and stay for good. ‘
Zhilin thought about it:to be sure, his mother was in poor health, and he might never see her again.Why not go? And if the bride was to his liking he could even marry.
He obtained leave ofabsence from his colonel, bade his comrades farewell and treated his men tofour pailfuls of vodka as a parting gesture. Then he made ready for the road.
At that time there was awar on in the Caucasus and the roads were too dangerous to travel either by dayor by night. If any of the Russians left the fortress he was in peril of beingkilled or taken off into to mountains by the Tatars. For this reason a body offootsoldiers escorted civilians in and out of the fortress twice a week.
It was summer. Thewagons and their convoy were ready at first light and set out at once from thefortress. Zhilin rode on the horseback, with his baggage in one of the wagons.
There were twenty-fiveversts to go, and the wagon-train made slow progress: either the soldiers wouldhalt for a rest, or somebody’s wagon wood lose a wheel, or a horse would poolup – and each time the whole convoy would have to stop and wait.
They had only recoveredhalf the distance when the sun passed its highest point. It was hot and dusty,and there was nowhere to shelter from the scorching sun. All around was baresteppeland without a tree or bush in sight.
Zhilin rode out ahead,then stopped and waited for the wagons to catch up. Hearing the sound of abugle – the signal of halt – he reflected, ‘Perhaps it would be better to rideon alone, without the soldiers? I have a fine horse under me: if I do comeacross any Tatars I’ll get away… Or should I?’ While he was considering thisanother officer, Kostylin, who was armed, rode up to him and said, ‘Let’s go onalone, Zhilin. I’m terribly hungry, and then there is the heat. I couldpositively wring this shirt out!’ And indeed, sweat was pouring from Kostylin,who was a corpulent fellow, and his face was bright red.
Zhilin thought for amoment and asked, ‘Is your gun loaded?’
‘Yes.’
‘Come on then. But let’sstick together.’
And so they rode onahead, following the track across the steppe, chatting and keeping their eyesskinned. The prospect was clear for miles around.
Presently the steppecame to an end and the road ran through a pass in a ravine, and Zhilin said,‘’We’ll have to nip up to the top and take a look; they could easily catch usunawares.’
‘What’s the point?’Kostylin objected. ‘Let’s push on.’
Zhilin would not listen.
‘No,’ he said. ‘You waithere, and I’ll have a quick look round.’