mountain with her horns pointed upwards. In the valley gleamed a milk-white mist.
Zhilin arose, and said to his comrade:
"Now, my brother, let's be off!"
Something stirred just as they were starting. They stopped to listen. The mullah was chanting on the roof:
"Allah! Bismillah! Il'rakhman!" which signifies: "Come, people, to the Mosque!"
They sat down again, squeezing themselves against the wall. Long they sat there, waiting till the people should have gone by. Again all was silent.
"Now, then, in God's name!"
They crossed themselves and set out. They went through the courtyard, down the steep slope to the stream, crossed the stream, and went along the gully. The mist was thick and stood low, and over their heads the stars were dimly, tinily visible. Zhilin calculated by the stars which way he ought to take. It was fresh in the mist and easy going, but their boots were in their way and made them stumble. Zhilin took his off, threw them away, and went along barefooted. He kept leaping from rock to rock and looking at the stars. Kostuilin began to lag behind.
"Go more quietly!" said he; "these cursed boots of mine! — but all boots fetter one so !"
"Take them off, then! You'll find it easier going."
Kostuilin also then went barefooted — and found it still worse. He was bruising his feet continually on the stones, and kept lagging behind more than ever.
"Lift up your feet more, look alive!" said
