another the kuréns turned out: the Umansky, Popovichevsky, Konevsky, Steblikovsky, Nezamaikovsky, Gurgaziy, Tytarevsky, Tymoshevsky. The Perevaslavsky alone was wanting. Its kazáks had smoked and drunk it to its fate. One awoke to find himself bound in the enemy's hands; another never woke at all, but went in his slumber into the damp earth; and the Atamán Khlib, himself, minus his trousers and outward adornments, found himself in the camp of the Lyakhs.
The uproar among the kazáks was heard in the city. Every one hastened to the ramparts, and a lively spectacle was presented to the kazáks. Polish warriors, each handsomer than the other, stood on the wall. Their bronze helmets shone like the sun, and were adorned with feathers white as swans. Others wore light caps, pink or blue, with crowns which drooped over one ear; kaftans with the sleeves thrown back, either embroidered with gold or simply garnished with cords. Their swords and guns were richly chased, and the noble lords had paid huge prices for them; they had, also, many equipments of every sort. In front stood the heavy Budzhakovsky Colonel, haughtily, in his red cap ornamented with gold. The Colonel was taller and stouter than all the rest, and his rich and voluminous kaftan was a tight fit. On the other hand, almost by the side of the gate,
