wind. Savelitch and I were covered with snow; the horses slackened their pace and soon stood quite still.
"Why dost thou not go on?" I asked the yemstchick, impatiently.
"Where is the use of going on?" answered he, leaving his seat; "as it is, goodness knows where we have got to: there is no road, and darkness everywhere."
I was about to rebuke him. Savelitch took his part: "Why did'st thou not listen?" said he angrily: "thou mightest have gone back to the inn, had tea, thou could'st have slept until the morning, the storm would have abated, and we should have been able to have gone on farther. Where do we hurry to now? Had we been going to a wedding!"
Savelitch was right. What was to be done. The snow still fell. A drift was forming round our kibitka. The horses stood with bent heads, starting occasionally. The yemstchick walked round and round, and not being able to do anything else, kept adjusting the harness. Savelitch grumbled. I kept looking in all directions, in the hope of discovering some trace of a dwelling or of a road, but could discern nothing but the confused chasing of the snow-flakes. . . . Suddenly I perceived something black.
"There, yemstchick!" I cried; "look; what is that black object there?"
The yemstchick strained his eyes.
"Goodness knows, sir," said he, taking his seat; "it is neither a waggon nor a tree, for it appears to move. It must be either a wolf or a man."
I ordered him to drive in the direction of the indistinct
