girl. He wanted to place her in the least dangerous position, but he could not do so for the simple reason that they were all equally dangerous. Having assembled his company, his final command was: “Let us now pray to whatever God each knows and then we’ll sound our horns all together. This will herald our presence here and alarm the beasts. Then we’ll ascend the pass until we reach the portion where it begins to widen. There my fellow Tukholians will guard the entrance so that no beast shall enter it, while you Boyarins, will ascend to the summit, right up to the breeding lairs of the female bears!”
In a minute woodland glades and hillsides reverberated with the bellowing blasts of the hunters’ horns. For a long moment the sound rolled, detonating over the forests and in the mountain ranges. The woodland was rudely wakened. A blue-jay screeched in terror over the pine trees. A frightened giant eagle flapped his wings and soared into the sky. A beast crunched among the broken branches and fallen logs, seeking shelter. When the din of the horns had died away, the huntsmen began their blocking ascent of the pass. Their hearts raced in anticipation of a possible surprise attack and a fight to the finish. They kept a straight formation as they advanced. The first row was composed of the boyars followed by the mountaineers. Maxim led the entire company, guiding their way, cautiously alert to every sound and sign of bear tracks. But the mighty king of the primeval forest fastness, the bear, had not yet shown himself.
They had now arrived at the narrowest part of the corridor beyond which it spread itself into a steep, upward inclining expanse. Here at Maxim’s order they paused once more and blew upon their horns, sending their fearful, thunderous sound into the dim-lit dens and harbours of the bears. Suddenly there was a rustling and snapping of dry twigs nearby, behind a huge pile of thick, half-rotten, giant pine logs.
“Attention!” cried Maxim, “The beast is approaching!”
9
