And they went further, scaring away the sparrows.

“Now we are on the way to Mukhina,” said Jig-Leg, tossing away the cigarette-butt and spitting. “We’ll go round it the back way: maybe we’ll be able to pick up something. Then across the Sivtsova woods we’ll make for Kuznechikha.…From there we’ll turn off to Markovka, and then we’ll strike out for home.”

“That will make a good thirty versts,” said Hopeful.

“If only we get something out of it!”

To the left of the road there was a forest that looked dark and forbidding; among the naked branches there was not a single green patch to cheer the eye. A small horse with a shaggy, matted coat and woefully fallen-in flanks was straying along the edge of the wood. Its ribs were as prominent as the hoops of a barrel. The friends halted again and for a long time watched it slowly putting one foot after the other, lowering its muzzle toward the ground, getting hold of the faded grass-blades with its lips and carefully munching them with its worn-down yellow teeth.

“She’s gotten thin, too,” observed Hopeful.

“Whoa-whoa!” cried Jig-Leg coaxingly.

The horse looked at him, and shaking its head, bent it earthwards again.

“She doesn’t like you,” Hopeful interpreted the horse’s tired movement.

“Come on. If we turn her over to the Tartars…they might give us some seven rubles for her,” said Jig-Leg pensively.

“No, they won’t! What good would she be to them?”

“What about the hide?”

“The hide? Will they give all that for the hide? They won’t give more than three for it.”

“Still…”

“But look at that hide. It’s not a hide, it’s an old rag.”

Jig-Leg looked at his comrade, and, after a pause, said:

“Well?”

“There might be trouble…” Hopeful said, doubtfully.

“Why?”

“We’d leave tracks.…The earth is damp.…They could see where we’d gone.”

“We could put bast shoes on her feet.”

“If you like.”

“Come along! Let’s drive into the wood and wait in the ravine until dark. At night we’ll take her out and drive her to the Tartars. It’s not far—only three versts.”

“Well,” Hopeful nodded, “let’s go. A bird in the hand, you know…But what if…?”