standing under a large rime-covered tree, and was making strange movements, and above him on a long branch a dog was hanging, from whose ripped up belly the still warm intestines were hanging out.
I understood that he was making a sacrifice, or, as they say, performing a mystery, and to speak the truth, I was not sorry that this sacrifice had detained him until I was awake, and could prevent him from abandoning me. For I was firmly persuaded that the heathen must certainly have the unchristian intention of doing so, and I envied Father Kiriak, who was now, though suffering the same misfortunes, at least in the company of a Christian, who would doubtless be more reliable than my heathen. It may have been caused by my own difficult position, that a suspicion was born in me that perhaps Father Kiriak, who was able to foresee, better than I could, all the accidents of Siberian travel, had, under the guise of benevolence, cunningly managed to pass on to me the heathen, while he took the Christian for himself. Of course this was not at all like Father Kiriak, and even now, when it recurs to my memory, I feel ashamed of these suspicions; but what was I to do when they crossed my mind?
I crawled out of the snow heap and began to approach my savage; he heard the snow creak
