was passing his last moments on this forest plain, which had witnessed such an indescribably fierce and primitive contest between the man and the beast.
Through his sorrow Lisvienko still gave signs of pleasurable pride.
"He was a valiant lad," he said, with a shake of his head, "a true Cossack!"
Sadly we brought back to Ho Lin the body of Rikoff and the skin of the tiger. That same evening, after having written my short, official report on the matter, I sent the body of Rikoff to Harbin under the charge of Sergeant Shum and one of his men to report to his commanding officer and to take part in the burial services of their companion.
After I had despatched the body of Rikoff from Udzimi and had returned to Ho Lin, some one knocked at the door of my car. A Russian workman whom I did not know entered in response to my: "Come in!" He was a type not infrequent in Russia, a mixture of Slav, Mongol and Tzigany—an old man with thick, grey hair, stiff as the bristles of a brush; with fiery, piercing black eyes, an eaglelike beak of a nose and thick, ruddy lips. He had a strange name, Zvon or Bell, and was a storekeeper in one of the coal depots. Afterwards I learned from my assistant that he was a good, conscientious worker. On entering, he stood before me like a soldier at attention and, in a solemn voice, asked me to release him from duty. When I inquired his reasons, he hesitated and mumbled something incoherently.
"Come, speak your mind!" I said sternly.
"The fact is that, whenever I arrive in a new place, I always cast lots to know if everything will be favourable, …"
"Well?"
