what your duty bids you. You yourselves know what kazák honour commands."
And all the kazáks began to exchange kisses. The atamáns were the first to begin: stroking down their grey moustaches, they kissed each other in cross-form, then grasping each other's hands, and squeezing them firmly, each wanted to say to the other: "Well, Sir brother, shall we meet again or not?" But they did not ask the question: they kept silent, and both greyheads speculated on the future. Then the kazáks took leave of one another, to the last man, knowing well that both parties had a great deal of work before them. But they were not obliged to part at once,—they had to wait until dark night, in order that the enemy might not notice the diminution in the kazák army. Then they all went off, by kuréns, to dine.
After dinner, all who had the journey before them lay down to rest, and fell into a deep and long sleep, as though foreseeing that it was, perhaps, the last sleep they would taste in such freedom. They slept even until sunset; and when the sun had gone down, and twilight had descended to a certain degree, they began to grease their carts. When everything was in readiness, they sent the wagons on ahead, and having doffed their caps
