Give me the whip, Nikita," cried Vasily Andreich, evidently proud of his son, who was clinging on behind to the supports of the sledge. "I'll give it you! Run off to mamma, you son of a dog, you!"
The lad leaped off. The horse increased its pace, and presently broke into a gallop.
The hamlet in which stood the house of Vasily Andreich consisted of six houses. No sooner had they passed the last house (it was a smithy) than they perceived that the wind was much more violent than they had imagined. Already the road was scarcely visible. The track of the sledge vanished almost immediately, and the road was only distinguishable because it stood higher than all the rest of space. The whole plain before them was a-smoke with mist; it was impossible to make out where the earth ended and where the sky began.
The forest of Telyatin, always such a striking feature of the landscape, was now but a black shadow seen dimly through the snow dust. The wind blew from the left, persistently forcing sideways the mane on Brownie's hard-bitten neck and his tied-up tail, and pressing down the long collar of Nikita's khalat. Nikita was facing the wind, which blew full against him.
"His present pace is nothing, there's too much snow about," said Vasily Andreich, right proud of his good horse. "Once I sat behind him on the road to Pashutno, and he did the whole distance in half an hour."
"What?"
12
