about? Can't you see that the Tartar is fooling you?"
"Of course he is fooling me!" shouted Makar waving his arms. "That was a lovely horse, a real gentleman's horse; I was offered forty roubles for him before his third spring. Never you mind, brother! If you have spoilt that horse for me I shall cut him up for meat, and you shall pay me his full value in money! Do you think, because you are a Tartar, there are no laws for you?"
Makar was flying into a passion and shouting in order to draw a crowd about him, for he was afraid of Tartars from habit, but the priest broke in on his outburst.
"Gently, gently, Makar, you keep forgetting that you are dead! What do you want with a horse? Can't you see that you travel much faster on foot than the Tartar does on horseback? Would you like to be forced to ride for a whole thousand years?"
Makar now understood why the Tartar had been so willing to give up his horse.
"They're a crooked lot!" he thought, and he turned to the Tartar.
"Very well then," he said. "Take the horse, brother; I forgive you!"
The Tartar angrily pulled his fur cap over his ears and lashed his horse. The pony galloped madly, and clouds of snow flew from under its hoofs,
