I looked at him, but did not speak to him, and he as was his wont, never spoke first; this time he remained silent too. We understood each other, and we sat thus, side by side, through the endless dark night without exchanging a single word.
But as soon as the grey dawn began to show itself in the sky, the savage silently rose from the sledge, stuck his hands deeper into the bosom of his fur coat, and again began to wander about, and, constantly stopping, he would examine the trees long, very long, and then walk on. At last he disappeared from my sight, and then in the same quick passionless way returned, and at once dived under the sledge and began to arrange or to disarrange something.
"What are you doing there?" I asked—and in speaking made the unpleasant discovery that my voice had become weak and had even quite changed its tone, while my savage spoke now as before, biting off his words jerkily.
"Getting my snow-shoes, Bachka."
"Snow-shoes!" I cried in horror, and it was now that I understood for the first time the meaning of "sharpening one's snow-shoes."[1] "Why are you getting your snow-shoes?"
"I shall run away at once."
"Ah, you villain!" I thought. "Where are you going?"
- ↑ A popular expression meaning: to take to one's heels.
