district banner, but amid the clanging of axes, scythes and uproar of the populace roused to take arms. Confusedly, the elders mingled with the youths, the armed with the unarmed, even the women moved about restlessly, seeking more news concerning the foe or noisily bewailing their fallen sons.
How should they try to defend themselves? How should they start? What should they do? buzzed the questions among the populace. One thought, however, was uppermost: The entire population must stand before the entrance to the trail and defend itself against the Mongols to the last drop of its blood. The youth, especially, favored immediate action.
“We want to lay down our lives in the defence of our country as our brothers did!” they vociferated. “Only over our dead bodies shall the foe enter our Tukholian valley!”
“Erect stockades at the entrance to the trail, first, and then assail the Mongols from behind them!” advised the more thoughtful elders.
When the hubbub had somewhat subsided and order was secured, Zakhar Berkut spoke: “Although it is a military matter and not in my line, nor for an old man like me to deliberate upon since I can take no part in it, nevertheless, I still think that we will be deserving little praise, if we rout the Mongols just from our village alone, especially when we take into account the fact that it won’t be so very hard for us to do this. Our sons died by their hands. Their blood has been spilled over our land and it is calling upon us to have vengeance. Will we revenge ourselves upon our enemies, wreckers and ravagers of our country when we merely rebuff them from our village? No, repulsed from our village, they will swoop down doubly wrathful upon other communities. Not just to repell then, but to defeat them, should be our aim!”
The folk-mote listened attentively, respectfully, to the words of their old sage and the youth, always eager for drastic action, was ready to agree to this counsel at once, considering
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