duration, arrived at the shore of the Island of Khortitza, where, at that time, was situated the Syech, which so often changed its location.
A throng of people on the shore were quarrelling with the ferrymen. The kazáks made ready their horses. Taras assumed a stately air, pulled his belt tighter, and drew his hand proudly over his moustache. His young sons also inspected themselves from head to foot, with some apprehension and an undefined feeling of satisfaction; then all set out together for the suburb, which was half a verst[1] from the Syech. On their arrival they were deafened by fifty blacksmiths' hammers beating upon twenty-five anvils sunk in the earth, and concealed with turf. Stalwart tanners sat on the street beneath their sloping roofs, scraping ox-hides with their strong hands; shopkeepers sat in their booths with piles of flints, steel and powder; an Armenian had hung out rich kerchiefs; a Tatár was turning mutton-collops on a spit; a Jew, with head thrust forward, was filtering corn-brandy from a cask. But the first man they met was a Zaporozhetz who was sleeping in the very middle of the road, with legs and arms outstretched. Taras Bulba could not refrain from halting to admire him.
"Eh, how splendidly developed he is! phew,
- ↑ A verst is two-thirds of a mile. I. F. H.
