the campaign was ended, the warrior went back to the fields and meadows, and the lower reaches of the Dnyeper, fished, traded, brewed his beer, and was a free kazák once more. His foreign contemporaries rightly marvelled at his wonderful qualities. There was no trade which the kazák did not know; he could distil brandy, build a peasant cart, make powder, do blacksmithing and locksmithing—and, in addition, amuse himself madly, drinking and carousing as only a Russian can,—all this he was equal to. Besides the registered kazáks, who considered themselves bound to present themselves in time of war, it was possible to collect at any time, in case of dire need, a whole army of volunteers. All that was required was that the Captains should traverse all the market-places and squares of the villages and hamlets, and shout at the top of their voices, as they stood erect in their carts: "Hey, ye beer-sellers and beer-brewers! Have done with brewing and with lolling on your ovens, and feeding the flies with your fat bodies! Go, win glory and knightly honour! Ye ploughmen, ye sowers of buckwheat, cease to follow the plough and to soil your yellow buskins in the earth, and court women, and waste your knightly strength! 'Tis time to win kazák glory!" and these words acted like sparks falling on dry wood. The husbandman broke his plough.
