kar felt himself seized, in turn, by the tails of his coat, and saw Aliosha dart forward.
Makar was furious. He forgot the fox and rushed after Aliosha, who now turned to flee.
They ran faster and faster. The twigs of the larches knocked the cap from Aliosha's head, but he could not stop to regain it. Makar was already upon him with a fierce cry. But Aliosha had always been more crafty than poor Makar. He suddenly stopped, turned round, and lowered his head; Makar ran straight into it with his stomach and turned head over heels in the snow. As he fell, that infernal Aliosha snatched the cap from his head and vanished into the forest.
Makar rose slowly to his feet. He felt thoroughly beaten and miserable. The state of his mind was pitiful. The fox had been in his hands and now he thought he saw it again in the darkening forest wave its tail gaily once more and vanish forever.
Darkness was falling. The little white cloud in the zenith could barely be seen, and beams of fading light were flowing wearily and languidly from it as it gently melted away.
Sharp rivulets of icy water were running in streams over Makar's heated body; the snow had gone up his sleeves and was trickling down his back and into his boots. That infernal Aliosha had taken away his cap and Makar well knew that the pitiless
