The mounted Bashkirs new likewise appeared on the top of the mound, and stood behind Pakhom. No sooner had the sun burst above the horizon than Pakhom turned round and went down into the steppe. The horsemen followed after.
Pakhom set out at a leisurely, even pace. He went a mile and then bade them plant a pole. He went on further. His limbs began to lose their first stiffness. He quickened his pace. He went still further and bade them plant another pole. Pakhom glanced back at the sun, the top of the mound was well in sight, with the group standing on it. Pakhom calculated that he had gone five miles. And now he began to sweat. He cast off his doublet and girded himself still tighter. He went on further and covered another five miles. It began to be hot. Again he looked back at the sun. It was already breakfast-time.
"I have now done one wagon-stage," thought he, "four wagon-stages make a good day's journey. It is still too early to turn back, but I may at least loosen my boots." He sat down, made his boots easier, and went on further. It was now much easier going. He thought, "I'll go another five miles and then I'll turn to the left. This spot is good."
But the further he went the better the land got. He continued to go straight on. He looked round at last. The mound was scarcely visible, and the people upon it looked like black ants.
"Well," thought Pakhom, "I've taken enough in this direction. I must turn off now." He had grown very hot and felt a strong desire to drink. So he raised his gourd to his mouth and drank without
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