seven o'clock in the evening, after drinking tea
I departed from a post-station, the name of which I
don't remember, but I recollect it was somewhere in
the military district of the Don, near Novochirkask. It was already dark when, wrapped up in my furs, I sat down with Alec in the sledge. In the shelter of the post-station it seemed warm and still. Although there was no snow above us, not a single tiny star was visible above our heads, and the sky appeared to be extraordinarily low and black in comparison with the pure snowy plain stretching out before us.
We had scarce passed the dark figures of the mills
— one of which was clumsily waving one of its huge
wings — and got clear of the station when I observed
that the road was heavier and more obstructed, and
the wind began to blow upon my left side more
violently and beat upon the flank, tail, and mane of the
horse and regularly raise and carry away the snow torn up by the curved shafts of the sledge and the hoofs of the horses. The little sledge-bell began to be silent, a current of cold air began to flow from some opening into my sleeve and down my back, and the advice of the inspector not to go at all, lest I should wander about the whole night and be frozen to death on the road, at once occurred to me.
"Haven't we lost our way?" I said to the driver; and receiving no answer, I repeated the question in a still plainer form: " Do you think we shall reach the post-station, driver, or shall we lose our way?"
"God knows!" he replied, without turning his
head, "it's only human to go astray, and the road is
nowhere visible, my little master!"
"Will you tell me whether you think we shall
get to the post-station or not?" I continued to ask. "Shall we get there, I say?"
"We ought to get there," said the driver, and he
murmured something else which I could not quite
catch because of the wind.
I didn't want to turn back, but to wander about all
night in the frost and snow in the absolutely barren
steppe as this part of the military district of the
Don really is, was also not a very pleasant prospect
to contemplate. Moreover, although I was unable to
examine him very well in the darkness, my driver, somehow or other, did not please me, nor did he inspire me with confidence. He sat squarely instead of sideways; his body was too big; his voice had too much of a drawl; his hat, somehow or other, was not a driver's hat — it was too big and bulgy; he did not urge on the horses as he should have done; he held the reins in both hands as a lacquey does who sits on the box behind the coachman and, above all, I did not believe in him because his ears were tied round with a cloth. In a word, I did not like the look of him, and that serious hunched back of his bobbing up and down before me boded no good.
"In my opinion it would be better to turn back," said Alec; "it is no joke to get lost."
"My little master, you see what sort of driving it
is: no road to be seen, and your eyes all bunged up!" growled the driver.
We hadn't gone a quarter of an hour when the
driver stopped the horses, gave the reins to Alec, clumsily disengaged his legs from their sitting position and, trampling over the snow in his big boots, went to try and find the road.
"I say, where are you?" I cried, "have we gone
astray, or what?"
But the driver did not answer, me and turning his
face in the opposite direction to that in which the
wind was blowing — it had cut him in the very eyes —
went away from the sledge.
"Well, what is it?" I asked when he had turned
back again.
"Nothing at all," said he with sudden impatience
and anger, as if it was my fault that he had lost the
road, and slowly thrusting his big boots into the
front part of the sledge again, he slowly grasped the
reins together with his frozen mittens.
"What shall we do?" I asked when we had again
moved forward.
"Do? Why, go whither God allows us!" And on we went at the same jig-trot, obviously across country, sometimes over snow piled op bushels high, sometimes over brittle, naked ice.
Notwithstanding the cold, the snow on our collars
thawed very quickly ; the snow drift below increased
continually, and fine dry flakes began to fall from
above.
It was plain we were going God only knew whither, for after going along for another quarter of an hour we did not see a angle verst post.