Chapter 4 in exile

in exile Old Semyon, nicknamed "The Sensible Man," sat by the fire on the bank with a young Tatar whose name no one knew; the other three ferrymen stayed in the cabin.Semyon was an old man in his sixties, skinny and toothless, but broad-shouldered and looked quite strong. He was already drunk at this time.He should have gone to bed long ago, but he still had half a bottle of vodka in his pocket, and he was afraid that the boys in the house would ask him for drinks.The Tatar was sick and suffering, wrapped up in his rags, and was talking about how wonderful his hometown Simbirsk was, and how beautiful and smart his wife was.He is only twenty-four or five years old, no older.Now, in the light of the campfire, he was pale and sickly, looking like a child.

①Minorities in Russia. ②In central Russia, on the banks of the Volga River. "Of course, this is not heaven," said the sensible man. "You have seen it yourself. There is nothing but water, bare banks, and clay everywhere... Easter is long past, and now the river is There's drift ice on it, and a snowfall this morning." "No, no!" said the Tartar, looking around in fear. Ten paces away there was a cold, gray river; gurgling and lapping on its cavernous clay banks, it hurried to the distant sea, nowhere.On this side of the river, there is a big dark barge, which the boatmen here call a "pontoon".Far away on the other side of the river, there were several fires that suddenly burst into flames and then went out, like a few fire snakes swimming: it was someone who was burning the weeds of the previous year.After the fire, there was darkness again.Small chunks of ice could be heard hitting the barge.It's damp and cold all around...

The Tartar looked up at the sky.The sky is full of stars, as many as his hometown, and the surroundings are also dark, but there is always something missing.Back home, in Simbirsk, there were no such stars, such a sky. "Not good, not good," he said repeatedly. "You will get used to it!" said the sensible man, and laughed, "Now that you are young and stupid, and the taste of milk on your mouth is still dry, with that stupidity, you will feel that there is no one more unfortunate than you in this world. But one day you'll say, "God bless, that's the kind of life everyone can have! 'Look at me.In another week, when the water recedes, we will place a ferry here, and you will leave here and wander around Siberia, but I will stay and continue to swing between the two banks.In this way, my one thousand is twenty years.Thank goodness!I don't want anything.God bless, may this life be possible for everyone. "

The Tartars put some dead branches on each of them, lay down near the fire, and said: "My father is a sick man. When he dies, my mother and wife will come here. They agreed." "Why do you want your mother and wife here," said Mingren. "It's just stupid, man. You've got the devil in his head, go to hell! Don't listen to him, the goddamn devil! Let It is proud. It uses a woman to seduce you, so you fight against it and say: "I don't like it! 'It tempts you with liberty, grit your teeth and say, 'I don't care!' Nothing! No parents, no wives, no liberty, no house, no stick! Nothing, see it hell!"

Xie Miao picked up the bottle, took a big gulp, and continued: "I'm no peasant, boy, nor a man of low birth; I'm the son of a deacon. I think I was free, living in Kursk, going in and out in frock coats. Now, I Trained myself to the point where I could lie naked and sleep on the ground and live on grass. God willing, I wish everyone could live like this. I want nothing, I'm afraid of no one, as I see it, There is no one in this world who is richer and freer than me. Back then, when I was sent here from Oros, I gritted my teeth and resisted from the first day: I don’t want anything! The devil tempted me with my wife, my relatives, and my freedom. But I said to him: I don't want anything! I've made up my mind, and I've stuck to it, so you see, I live well, and I don't complain. Whoever lets go of the devil, even once, hears him, he's doomed, There's no saving him: he'll sink in the mud, die, and never get out again. Not to mention you foolish peasants, even the well-born and educated lords are going to die just like that. About fifteen years ago Well, a gentleman sent here from Russia. It is said that he forged a will and did not divide the property equally with his brothers. He is also a duke or baron, maybe just a civil servant-who knows! Well, here he is, The first thing he did was to buy a house and a piece of land in Mukhodinsk. He said: "From now on I will support myself by my labor and sweat, because I am no longer a lord, but an immigrant ②. ’ I said to him: “It’s nothing, God will bless you, it’s a good thing.” He was young and busy all day long: mowing the grass himself, sometimes fishing, and riding a horse He ran about sixty versts. There was only one bad thing: from the first year, he went to Greeno every day to go to the post office. He stood on my ferry and kept sighing: "Oh, Semyon, I don’t know why my family hasn’t sent me money for a long time! '

① Refers to serfs or other inferior people. ②Russia's exile is divided into two types: hard labor exile and emigration exile.This refers to immigrant criminals. I said: "No money, Vasily Sergeich, what do you want money for? You put the past behind you, forget about it, pretend it never happened, pretend it was a dream, and you start from scratch Live!" I said again: "Don't listen to the devil, he can't do good, he can only set traps!You think about money now, and after a while, lo and behold, you think about something else, and then more and more.If you want yourself to be happy, the most important thing is that you want nothing.By the way...' I said to him, 'if fate has mistreated you and me, never beg for mercy, never bow to it, but despise and laugh at it.Otherwise it will laugh at me. ’ That’s what I told him... and about two years later I got him on this side of the bank again, and he was rubbing his hands and grinning.He said: "I'm going to pick up my wife in Greenough. She pities me and finally comes. She treats me well and has a kind heart." He was breathless with joy. One day later, he and his wife Came here by car. My wife is young and beautiful, wearing a hat, and holding a baby in her arms. There is a lot of luggage of all kinds. My Vasily Sergeyitch is happy to walk around her, no matter how you look at it He couldn't get enough of it, and he couldn't get enough of it. He said: "Yes, Brother Semyon, even in Siberia people can still live!There is still happiness in Siberia! 'I thought to myself: Come on, don't be too happy too soon.Since then, he has been going to Greenow almost every week: to see if the money from Russia has arrived.It costs a lot.He said: "She stayed in Siberia because of me. She sacrificed her youth and beauty for me. She is willing to share troubles with me, so I should try to make her happy... In order to make his wife happy, he made friends with many officers and men. A villain of every description. Needless to say, he had to feed and drink for the gang, and there had to be a piano in the house, and a shaggy lapdog on the couch—to hell with it!... In short, he was ostentatious, pampered She. But the wife hasn't been with him for long. What can she do? This place has only clay, water, cold, no vegetables, no fruits, no communication of any kind, and she is a pampered lady in the capital... Of course she is bored Now, let's talk about the husband, after all, no longer a lord, but an immigrant convict—not respectable. Three years later, I remember, on the eve of the Assumption, there were shouts from the other side of the river. I rowed the ferry over there, and saw—it was the wife, her head and face were tightly covered, and beside her stood a young gentleman, a civil servant. There was also a troika beside her... I took them On this side of the bank, they got into a carriage—they disappeared in a second! But they were seen. Early in the morning, Vasily Sergeyitch came galloping in a hansom. He Question: "Xie Miao, did my wife cross the river with a gentleman wearing glasses? ’ I said: “Crossing the river, go chase the wind in the wilderness!” He rode his horse and chased him for five days and five nights. Later, I sent him to the other side of the river, where he fell on the ferry and took his head. Bumping against the planks of the boat, and crying. 'It's obvious,' I said, laughing at him, telling him: "Even in Siberia, people can still live! '

①The Orthodox holiday falls on the 15th day of the eighth lunar month. His longing grew stronger... and then he longed for freedom.His wife had gone back to Russia, so he wanted to go back and get her back from her lover.From then on he started, my little brother, to ride to the post office almost every day, or go to the city to find the chief.He sent out and handed in the papers, begging pardon to let him go home.He often mentioned that he spent more than two hundred rubles on telegraph fees alone.He sold the land and mortgaged the house to the Jews.His hair was gray, his back was bent, his face was yellow, and he looked like a consumptive ghost.When he was talking to people, he stammered and was always ummmm...and teary.In this way, he has been tossing about for six or eight years.But then he came back to life and was happy again: he was fascinated by something new.Guess what: the daughter has grown up.He looked at her, feeling sorry for her.And she was, to be honest, pretty good-looking: pretty, with dark eyebrows, and a vivacious disposition.Father and daughter always go to the church in Greenow together every Sunday.They were standing side by side on the ferry, she was all smiles, and he was looking at her without blinking.He said: "Yes, Semyon, even in Siberia one can still live. There is happiness in Siberia. Look how good my daughter is! You can't find another in a thousand versts." Such a good girl.' I said: "Your daughter is good, that's right, really..." But I thought in my heart: "Wait and see... This girl is young and bleeding, she I want to live a good life, but what kind of life does this place have?' Later, hey, she really started to feel bored... She went down, down, the whole person was haggard, sick, and now she has no strength left Consumption. This is the happiness of Siberia! To hell with him! This is the life of Siberians... He began to look for doctors everywhere, and brought them home. He only heard that there was a doctor three hundred versts away. Doctor, if there are wizards, he will drive to pick them up. The money spent on doctors is too much! According to me, it is better to exchange the money for wine... She is going to die anyway. When she dies, he will also It's the end. Hang yourself in grief, or run back to Russia—it's obvious. If he tries to run away, he'll be caught, tried, sentenced to hard labor, and then he'll taste the whip... ..."

"Well, well," muttered the Tartar, shivering with cold. "What's the matter?" asked the sensible person. "Wife, daughter... It's nothing to do hard work, nothing to worry about, he's got his wife, he's got his daughter... You don't want anything. But there's nothing—no! His wife has been with him for three years, It's God's grace. Nothing—bad; three years—good. Why don't you understand?" Trembling all over, the Tatar struggled to collect the limited Russian vocabulary he knew, and stammered: God bless, don't get sick and die in a foreign land, and be buried in this cold, rusty land, He said that as long as his wife could come to him, even if only for a day or an hour, then for this kind of happiness, he would be willing to bear any kind of suffering.He will thank God that one day of happiness is better than nothing.

Then he told how beautiful and clever his wife, who had stayed at home, was.As he spoke, he put his head in his hands and burst into tears.He repeatedly wanted Xie Miao to believe that he was not guilty at all, he had been wronged.His two brothers and his uncle drove away some of the farmer's horses and beat the old man half to death, but the village community did not act according to conscience, and issued a sentence, exiling all three brothers to Siberia. stay at home. "You'll get used to it!" said Semyon. The Tatar fell silent, and stared fixedly at the green fire with his red eyes from crying.He looked bewildered and terrified, as if he still hadn't figured out why he ended up here, in the dark and damp, among strangers, and not in Simbirsk.Semyon lay down by the fire, sneered for some reason, and hummed softly.

"What happiness does she have with her father?" Semyon resumed after a while. "He loves her, he is comforted, that's true; but, boy, you have to be careful with him; the old man is stern and stubborn." Young girls don't need to be strict... They need gentleness, ha ha ha, ho ho ho, perfume and cosmetics. That's it... Oh, things, things!" Semyon sighed and stood up with difficulty, "Wine That's all, time to go to bed now. How about it? I'm leaving, buddy..." The Tatar was left alone, and he added some dead branches, and lay down on his side, looking at the fire, and began to think of his homeland and his wife.It would be great if she could come and live for a month, even just for a day!After that, if she wants to go back, let her go!Coming to live for a month, even for a day, is better than never coming.However, if his wife did what she said and really came, what would he support her with?Where would she live in such a place?

"How will she live without food or drink?" the Tartar asked aloud. He now rowed day and night, taking ten kopeks a day and night.Yes, passers-by will give some money for tea and wine.But those fellows divided all the proceeds privately, and did not give the Tatar a penny, but only made fun of him.He was so poor, he was hungry, he was cold, and he was always in fear... Now he was sore and shivering, and he should have gone into the house to lie down and sleep, but there was no quilt over there, and it was colder than this shore.Although there is nothing to build here, at least you can make a fire... A week later, when the water receded here, they set up the barge, and all the boatmen, except Semyon, had nothing to do.At that time, the Tatars had to go from village to village to beg and find work.His wife was only sixteen years old, pretty, delicate, and shy—could she be expected to go begging in villages without a veil?No, it's scary to think about it... Its daybreak.The barge, the willow bushes in the water, and the ripples on the water have been clearly revealed.But looking back - there is a high slope of clay.At the bottom of the slope is a farmhouse with a roof covered with brown dry grass; a little higher up, many rural wooden houses are crowded together.The roosters in the village are already crowing. The red slopes, the barges, the river, the hostile strangers, the hunger, the cold, the disease—all these may not actually exist;He thought he was asleep, he could even hear himself snoring... Of course, he was at home, in Simbirsk, and if he called his wife by name, she would answer; there was his mother in the next room... But , There are such terrible dreams in the world!Why do you have such a dream?The Tatar smiled and opened his eyes. What kind of river is this?Volga? It is snowing. "Hey!" someone shouted from the other side, "let the ferry come over!" The Tartar woke up, and hastened to get his companions to row the boat to the other side.As they walked, several boatmen put on ragged leather jackets, cursed in a hoarse voice while still drowsy, and came to the shore with their necks shrunk from the cold.They had just awoke from their sleep, and the piercing chill that wafted from the river evidently struck them as both loathsome and dreadful.They jumped onto the barge without haste... The Tartar and the three boatmen took long broad-bladed oars that looked like shrimp stings in the dark, and Semyon pressed his stomach against the long rudder.The other side was still yelling, and even fired two shots, thinking that the boatman was probably asleep, or went to the village for a tavern. "Okay, what's the rush!" said the sensible man, as if he was convinced that there was no need to worry about anything in this world, because according to him, being anxious didn't work. The heavy barge left the shore and floated among the willows.The willow tree receded slowly, and only by this fact did it know that the barge was moving and not stopping.Several boatmen rowed in unison.Xie Miao pressed the rudder with his belly, drawing an arc in the air from time to time, flying from one side of the side of the boat to the other.In the darkness, these people seemed to sit on some long-clawed monster in some ancient time, which was sending them to a cold and desolate country, such a country is seldom seen even in nightmares. Passing through willow groves, the barge entered open water.The creaking of oars and the rhythmic splash of water can already be heard on the opposite bank.Someone shouted: "Hurry up! Hurry up!" After another ten minutes or so, the barge crashed heavily onto the pier. "It's never over, it's never over!" muttered Semyon, wiping the snow off his face, "God knows where all this snow comes from!" A tall, thin old man was waiting for the boat. He was wearing a fox fur jacket and a white lambskin hat. He stood not far from the horse, motionless.He looked sad and focused, as if he was trying to remember something, angry at his useless memory.When Semyon came up to him and took off his hat with a smile, the man said: "I'm in a hurry to go to Anastasievka. My daughter is ill again, and I hear a new doctor has been sent there." They hauled the wagon onto the barge and rowed back.The man Semyon called Vasily Sergeyitch stood still while they were rowing, biting his thick lips, staring blankly at one spot, and the coachman asked permission to smoke in his presence. , he didn't answer anything, as if he didn't hear it.Semyon pressed the rudder with his belly, looked at him and said sarcastically: "Even in Siberia, people can still live. Live!" There was a smug look on the sensible man's face, as if his statement had been confirmed, as if he was glad that things turned out as he expected.The unfortunate and helpless look of the man in the fox fur jacket obviously made him very happy. "Go out now, Vasily Sergeitch, the road is full of mud," he said, seeing the coachman harnessing the horses on the bank, "you'd better wait a fortnight, and then the road will be dry. Or going out by sex...if it works, that's all right, but you know that people spend their lives running around, day and night, and it's no good in the end. It's the truth!" Vasily Sergeyitch silently rewarded the wine money, got into a long-distance carriage, and drove away. "Look at him, he's gone to the doctor again!" said Semyon, shrinking his neck from the cold, "well, go to the real doctor, go chase the wind in the fields, catch the devil's tail, and go to hell with you! These eccentrics, Lord, forgive me a sinner!" The Tatar went up to Semyon, looked at him with hatred and disgust, trembling all over, and said in bad Russian with a Tatar twist: "He is good... good, you are bad! You are bad! Master is a good man, he is good; you are a beast, you are bad! Master is a living person, you are a living corpse... God created man to let him live, let him Be happy, make him sad, make him miserable, but you don't want anything, so you're not alive, you're stone, you're clay! A stone doesn't want anything, you don't want anything... You're a stone—that's why God doesn't like you , like the master." Everyone laughed.The Tatar frowned in disgust, waved his hand, wrapped his ragged clothes tightly, and walked towards the campfire.Several boatmen and Semyon entered the cabin with heavy steps. "It's so cold!" said a boatman hoarsely.He lay down on the wet mud and straightened himself. "Yes! It's not warm!" echoed another. "The life of a convict! . . . " Everyone lies down.The door was blown open by the wind, and the snow drifted into the house.No one wants to get up and close the door: they are afraid of the cold and don't bother to close the door. "I'm fine," said Semyon, who was about to fall asleep. "God bless, I hope everyone can live like this." "You, of course, have served hard labor all your life, and even ghosts can't catch you." There was a dog * (left mouth, right upper right, white lower text) barking like a whining sound outside. "What's that sound? Who's there?" "It's the Tartars who are crying." "Look at him... weirdo!" "He'll get used to it!" Semyon said, and immediately fell asleep. The rest of the people also quickly fell asleep.The door remained open. May 8, 1892