the reins aside and made themselves a shelter against the wind out of their armyaks,[1] never ceasing to smoke their pipes the whole time, as was clear from the sparks proceeding from that quarter, and the third troika, in which nobody was visible—presumably the driver was sleeping in the middle of it. Before I went to sleep, however, the leading driver had at rare intervals stopped his horses and tried to find the way. Then, every time we stopped, the howling of the wind became more audible and the enormous quantity of snow suspended in the air more strikingly visible. I now saw by the light of the moon, half obscured by the snowstorm, the small, squat figure of the driver, with the big whip in his hand, with which he flicked at the snow in front of him, moving backwards and forwards in the bright mist and coming back again to the sledge, leaping sideways on to the box seat, and amidst the monotonous whistling of the wind the alert, sonorous ringing and clanging of the little bells was audible once more. Every time the driver in front leaped out to look for the road or the verst posts one could hear the brisk, self-confident voice of one of the drivers shouting to the driver in front:
"Do you hear, Ignashka! take the road to the left! You'll find more shelter to the right!" Or,
"Why are you going round and round like a fool? Go by the snow; take the lee of it, and you'll come out all right!" Or, "A little more to the right, a little more to the right, my brother! Don't you see
- ↑ A peasant's cloak of rough camel-hair.
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