Book Fourteen: 1812 - Chapter X

by Leo Tolstoy

　　Having returned to the watchman's hut, Petya found Denisov in thepassage. He was awaiting Petya's return in a state of agitation,anxiety, and self-reproach for having let him go.

　　"Thank God!" he exclaimed. "Yes, thank God!" he repeated,listening to Petya's rapturous account. "But, devil take you, Ihaven't slept because of you! Well, thank God. Now lie down. We canstill get a nap before morning."

　　"But... no," said Petya, "I don't want to sleep yet. Besides Iknow myself, if I fall asleep it's finished. And then I am used to notsleeping before a battle."

　　He sat awhile in the hut joyfully recalling the details of hisexpedition and vividly picturing to himself what would happen nextday.

　　Then, noticing that Denisov was asleep, he rose and went out ofdoors.

　　It was still quite dark outside. The rain was over, but drops werestill falling from the trees. Near the watchman's hut the black shapesof the Cossacks' shanties and of horses tethered together could beseen. Behind the hut the dark shapes of the two wagons with theirhorses beside them were discernible, and in the hollow the dyingcampfire gleamed red. Not all the Cossacks and hussars were asleep;here and there, amid the sounds of falling drops and the munching ofthe horses near by, could be heard low voices which seemed to bewhispering.

　　Petya came out, peered into the darkness, and went up to the wagons.Someone was snoring under them, and around them stood saddled horsesmunching their oats. In the dark Petya recognized his own horse, whichhe called "Karabakh" though it was of Ukranian breed, and went up toit.

　　"Well, Karabakh! We'll do some service tomorrow," said he,sniffing its nostrils and kissing it.

　　"Why aren't you asleep, sir?" said a Cossack who was sitting under awagon.

　　"No, ah... Likhachev- isn't that your name? Do you know I haveonly just come back! We've been into the French camp."

　　And Petya gave the Cossack a detailed account not only of his ridebut also of his object, and why he considered it better to risk hislife than to act "just anyhow."

　　"Well, you should get some sleep now," said the Cossack.

　　"No, I am used to this," said Petya. "I say, aren't the flints inyour pistols worn out? I brought some with me. Don't you want any? Youcan have some."

　　The Cossack bent forward from under the wagon to get a closer lookat Petya.

　　"Because I am accustomed to doing everything accurately," saidPetya. "Some fellows do things just anyhow, without preparation, andthen they're sorry for it afterwards. I don't like that."

　　"Just so," said the Cossack.

　　"Oh yes, another thing! Please, my dear fellow, will you sharpenmy saber for me? It's got bl..." (Petya feared to tell a lie, andthe saber never had been sharpened.) "Can you do it?"

　　"Of course I can."

　　Likhachev got up, rummaged in his pack, and soon Petya heard thewarlike sound of steel on whetstone. He climbed onto the wagon and saton its edge. The Cossack was sharpening the saber under the wagon.

　　"I say! Are the lads asleep?" asked Petya.

　　"Some are, and some aren't- like us."

　　"Well, and that boy?"

　　"Vesenny? Oh, he's thrown himself down there in the passage. Fastasleep after his fright. He was that glad!"

　　After that Petya remained silent for a long time, listening to thesounds. He heard footsteps in the darkness and a black figureappeared.

　　"What are you sharpening?" asked a man coming up to the wagon.

　　"Why, this gentleman's saber."

　　"That's right," said the man, whom Petya took to be an hussar."Was the cup left here?"

　　"There, by the wheel!"

　　The hussar took the cup.

　　"It must be daylight soon," said he, yawning, and went away.

　　Petya ought to have known that he was in a forest with Denisov'sguerrilla band, less than a mile from the road, sitting on a wagoncaptured from the French beside which horses were tethered, that underit Likhachev was sitting sharpening a saber for him, that the big darkblotch to the right was the watchman's hut, and the red blotch belowto the left was the dying embers of a campfire, that the man who hadcome for the cup was an hussar who wanted a drink; but he neither knewnor waited to know anything of all this. He was in a fairy kingdomwhere nothing resembled reality. The big dark blotch might really bethe watchman's hut or it might be a cavern leading to the verydepths of the earth. Perhaps the red spot was a fire, or it might bethe eye of an enormous monster. Perhaps he was really sitting on awagon, but it might very well be that he was not sitting on a wagonbut on a terribly high tower from which, if he fell, he would haveto fall for a whole day or a whole month, or go on falling and neverreach the bottom. Perhaps it was just the Cossack, Likhachev, whowas sitting under the wagon, but it might be the kindest, bravest,most wonderful, most splendid man in the world, whom no one knew of.It might really have been that the hussar came for water and went backinto the hollow, but perhaps he had simply vanished- disappearedaltogether and dissolved into nothingness.

　　Nothing Petya could have seen now would have surprised him. He wasin a fairy kingdom where everything was possible.

　　He looked up at the sky. And the sky was a fairy realm like theearth. It was clearing, and over the tops of the trees clouds wereswiftly sailing as if unveiling the stars. Sometimes it looked as ifthe clouds were passing, and a clear black sky appeared. Sometimesit seemed as if the black spaces were clouds. Sometimes the sky seemedto be rising high, high overhead, and then it seemed to sink so lowthat one could touch it with one's hand.

　　Petya's eyes began to close and he swayed a little.

　　The trees were dripping. Quiet talking was heard. The horses neighedand jostled one another. Someone snored.

　　"Ozheg-zheg, Ozheg-zheg..." hissed the saber against thewhetstone, and suddenly Petya heard an harmonious orchestra playingsome unknown, sweetly solemn hymn. Petya was as musical as Natasha andmore so than Nicholas, but had never learned music or thought aboutit, and so the melody that unexpectedly came to his mind seemed to himparticularly fresh and attractive. The music became more and moreaudible. The melody grew and passed from one instrument to another.And what was played was a fugue- though Petya had not the leastconception of what a fugue is. Each instrument- now resembling aviolin and now a horn, but better and clearer than violin or horn-played its own part, and before it had finished the melody merged withanother instrument that began almost the same air, and then with athird and a fourth; and they all blended into one and again becameseparate and again blended, now into solemn church music, now intosomething dazzlingly brilliant and triumphant.

　　"Oh- why, that was in a dream!" Petya said to himself, as he lurchedforward. "It's in my ears. But perhaps it's music of my own. Well,go on, my music! Now!..."

　　He closed his eyes, and, from all sides as if from a distance,sounds fluttered, grew into harmonies, separated, blended, and againall mingled into the same sweet and solemn hymn. "Oh, this isdelightful! As much as I like and as I like!" said Petya to himself.He tried to conduct that enormous orchestra.

　　"Now softly, softly die away!" and the sounds obeyed him. "Nowfuller, more joyful. Still more and more joyful!" And from anunknown depth rose increasingly triumphant sounds. "Now voices joinin!" ordered Petya. And at first from afar he heard men's voices andthen women's. The voices grew in harmonious triumphant strength, andPetya listened to their surpassing beauty in awe and joy.

　　With a solemn triumphal march there mingled a song, the drip fromthe trees, and the hissing of the saber, "Ozheg-zheg-zheg..." andagain the horses jostled one another and neighed, not disturbing thechoir but joining in it.

　　Petya did not know how long this lasted: he enjoyed himself allthe time, wondered at his enjoyment and regretted that there was noone to share it. He was awakened by Likhachev's kindly voice.

　　"It's ready, your honor; you can split a Frenchman in half with it!"

　　Petya woke up.

　　"It's getting light, it's really getting light!" he exclaimed.

　　The horses that had previously been invisible could now be seen totheir very tails, and a watery light showed itself through the barebranches. Petya shook himself, jumped up, took a ruble from his pocketand gave it to Likhachev; then he flourished the saber, tested it, andsheathed it. The Cossacks were untying their horses and tighteningtheir saddle girths.

　　"And here's the commander," said Likhachev.

　　Denisov came out of the watchman's hut and, having called Petya,gave orders to get ready.