Under the yoke, p.23
Under the Yoke, page 23
At these words, every one mechanically raised his eyes
and looked round him. Some inquisitive glances were
directed at Ognianoff.
The latter was now furiously sipping his third cup of
coffee, and emitting every now and then a thick cloud of
smoke which half concealed him from view. But he felt
the searching looks that were fixed on him and drops of
perspiration rose behind his turban. He could no longer
128 UNDER THE YOKE
endure the tension of such a situation, and was eager to
leave the cafe and breathe the fresh air outside.
" Where are you bound for, if fate wills it ?
" some one
asked him.
" For Klissoura, inshallah," answered Ognianoff, quietly,
unrolling a long twisted purse to pay his score.
"
What, in this snow and storm ? You'd better stop
here, you'll get there to-morrow."
" To the traveller the road — to the frog the marsh,"
answered Ognianoff with a smile.
" These stories of yours are old women's tales, Rahman
Aga — your ghiaour's no devil or crow, but a ' Komita '
like every other ' Komita.' "
"
Well, you catch him then."
"
So we will — we've scented his nest."
"
If we could only get hold of him," cried several with
looks of " bloodthirsty ferocity.
I'll stake my head on it that either to-day or to-morrow
the Komita Boicho will be in the trap." " Where are they looking for the dog ?
"
" He's hidden in some ghiaour village of the Sredna
Gora where he's found a warm nest. Yesterday some
zapties started for Bania and others for the Abrashlar
fields — we'll get him."
" Are you after him too ?
"
"
Yes. We're to meet at Verigovo and begin the search
there."
It was then only that Ognianoff noticed that the speaker
was a zaptie — ^he had not observed him in the corner. The
discovery of his narrow escape from Verigovo increased his
dismay. Their suspicious glances fell, but the cafe was
unendurable. He saluted the guests and went out.
When he was once more outside in the fresh air, at
liberty under the snowy sky, he took a deep breath of
relief, and leaped on his horse.
CHAPTER XXIII : THE SEWING-PARTY AT
ALTINOVO
Instead of making for Bela Cherkva, Ognianoff now turned
back towards Altinovo, a village which lay in the western
comer of the valley. It was a two hours' journey, but his
horse was exhausted and the road was bad, so that he only
THE SEWING-PARTY AT ALTINOVO 129
just reached the village before dark, pursued right up to the
outskirts by the famished howls of the wolves. •
He entered by the Bulgarian quarter (the village was a
mixed one, containing both Turks and Bulgarians) and
soon stopped before old Tsanko's door.
Tsanko was by birth a native of Klissoura, but had long
ago taken up his abode in the village. He was a simple,
kmdly peasant and a warm patriot. The apostles often
slept at his house. He received Ognianoff with open arms.
"
It is a piece of luck your coming to me. We've got
a sewing-party on to-night — you can have a good look at
our girls. You won't find the time heavy on your hands,
I'll be bound," said Tsanko with a smile, as he showed the
way in.
Ognianoff hastened to tell him that he was being pursued,
and for what reason.
"
Yes, yes, I know all about it," said Tsanko,
"
you don't
suppose just because our village is a bit out of the way that
we know nothing of what goes on outside ?
"
" But sha'n't I be putting you out ?
"
" Don't you mind, I tell you. You must look out among
the girls to-night for one to carry the flag," laughed Tsanko, "
there — you can see them all from this window, like a
king."
Ognianoff was in a small, dark closet, the window of
which, covered with wooden treUis-work, looked on to the
large common room ; here the se^dng-party was already
assembling. It was a meeting of the principal girls of the
village, the object being to assist in making the trousseau
for Tsanko's daughter Donka. The fire burned brightly
and lighted up the walls, which boasted no ornament save
a print of St. Ivan of Rilo and the bright, glazed dishes on
the shelves . The furniture — as in most well-to-do villagers'
houses — consisted of a water-butt, a wardrobe, a shelf, and
the great cupboard which contained all Tsanko's household
goods. All the guests, both male and female, were seated
on the floor, which was covered with skins and carpets.
Besides the light of the fire there were also two petroleum
lamps burning — a special luxury in honour of the occasion.
It was long since Ognanioff had been present at a
gathering of this kind — a curious custom sanctioned by
antiquity. From his dark recess he watched with interest
the simple scenes oL the still primitive village life. The
130 UNDER THE YOKE
door opened, and Tsanko's wife came to him — she was a
buxom and talkative dame, also from Klissoura. She sat
down by Ognianoff's side and began to point out to him the
most remarkable girls present, with the necessary details.
" Do you see that fat, rosy-cheeked girl there ? That's
Staiika Chonina. See what a sad, sad look Ivan Kill-the-
Bear gives her now and again. He barks for her like a
sheep-dog when he wants to make her laugh. She's very
industrious, quick-witted, and cleanly. Only she ought to
marry at once, poor girl — she's getting so fat ; she'll be
thinner after marriage. It's just the opposite of your towngirls.
The girl to the left of her is Tsveta Prodanova : she
is in love with the lad over there, with his moustache
sticking out Hke a skewer. She's a lively one for you —
see her eyes in every comer of the room at once ; but
she's a good girl. That's Draganoff's Tsveta by her side ;
and next to her Raika, the Pope's daughter. I'd rather
have those two than twenty of your fine ladies from
Phihppopolis. Do you see their white throats, just like
ducks ? Why, I once caught my Tsanko saying he'd give
his vineyard at Mai Tepe, just to be allowed to kiss one of
them on the chin ! Didn't I just box his ears for him, the
vagabond ! Do you see that girl to the right of fat
Staika ? That's Kara VeUo's daughter : she's a great
swell ; five young fellows have already been after her, but
her father wouldn't have anything to say to them. He's
keeping her for somebody, the old weasel — you know he
looks just Hke a weasel. Ivan Nedelioff '11 have her, or I'll
bite my tongue out. There's Rada Milkina : she sings like
the nightingale on our plum-tree — but she's a lazybones,
between ourselves. I'd rather have Dimka^ Todorova,
standing over there by the shelf : there's a blooming rose
for you ! If I was a bachelor I'd propose to her at once.
Why don't you take her yourself ? That's the Peeff's girl
standing by our Donka. She's a pretty girl, and industrious
into the bargain — so they say she's as good as our Donka.
She's got a sweet voice, hke Rada Milkina, and laughs like
a swallow twittering ; you listen to her."
As she stood there by Boicho in the dark, she reminded
him of the scene in the
"
Divina Commedia," where
Beatrice, at the gate of hell, points out to Dante one by one
the condemned, and tells him their history.
Ognianofi! listened more or less attentively : he was
THE SEWING-PARTY AT ALTINOVO 131
entirely absorbed by the picture, and oared little for the
explanations. The bolder among the girls jested with the
lads, flirted with them archly, and laughed merrily the
while. They were answered by the deep guffaws of the
youths, who looked shyly across at the weaker sex. Jests,
taunts, and chaff followed in one continual flow : loud
laughter was called forth by jokes with a double meaning,
which sometimes brought the hot blush to the girls' cheeks.
Tsanko alone took part in the merry-making. His wife
was busy with the stew-pan, where the supper was preparing.
As for Donka, she couldn't stay still for a moment.
"
Come, you've chaffed each other enough now ; suppose
you give us a song," cried the housewife, as she left Boicho
and returned to her saucepans on the fire.
"
Now, then,
Rada, Stanka, sing something and put the young men to
shame. Young men are not worth a brass button nowadays
: they can't sing."
Rada and Stanka did not wait to be asked twice. They
at once began a song which was taken up by all those
girls who could sing ; these at once formed into two
choruses : the first sang one verse, and then waited while
the second repeated it. The better singers were in the first
choir, which consisted of alto voices, the others repeating
the verse in a lower key.
The following are the words of the song they sang :
"
Well-a-day ! the youthful couple ; well-a-day ! they fell in
love ;
Well-a-day I in love they'd fallen ; well-a-day ! from
earliest youth.
Well-a-day ! they met each other ; well-a-day ! last night
they met.
Well-a-day ! all in the darkness ; well-a-day ! just down
the street.
Well-a-day ! the silver moonlight ; well-a-day ! shone down
on them.
Well-a-day ! the stars were twinkling ; well-a-day ! within
the sky.
Yet, well-a-day ! the youthful couple ; well-a-day ! they're.
sitting still.
Well-a-day / yes, still they're sitting ; well-a-day ! in loving
talk.
Well-a-day ! herjug of water ; weU-a-day / it'sfrozen hard^
132 UNDER THE YOKE
Wdl-a-day ! his oaken cudgel ; well-a-day ! how long it's
groum.
But, well-a-day I the youthful couple ; well-a-day ! they're
sitting yet I
"
When the song came to an end the youths were loud in
applause : it appealed to every one of them ; its pleasing
refrain brought up memories of past experience. As for
Ivan Kill-the-Bear, he was devouring Staika Chonina with
his eyes ; he was deeply in love with her.
"
That's the kind of song to sing over again — ay, and to
act all day long," he cried, in his deep bass voice.
All the girls laughed, and many an arch look was cast at
Kill-the-Bear.
He was a perfect mountain of a man, of gigantic stature
and herculean strength, with a big, bony face, but not over
bright. However, he was great at singing — that is to say,
his voice corresponded with his size. He now became
cross, and withdrew silently behind the girls, where he
suddenly barked like an old sheep-dog. The girls started
in terror at first, and then laughed at him, and the bolder
ones among them began to tease him : one of them sang,
mockingly :
"
Ivan, you hright-hued turtle-dove,
Ivan, you slender poplar"
Another added :
"
Ivan, you shaggy, old she-hear,
Ivan, you lanky clothes-prop !
''
More giggling and laughter followed. Ivan became
furious. He stared in dumb bewilderment at the rosycheeked
Staika Chonina, who mocked so unkindly her
fervent adorer ; he opened a mouth like a boa-constrictor's,
and roared out :
" Said Peika's aunt one day to her
'
Why, Peika girl ; why, Peika girl,
The people freely talk of you.
The people, all the neighbours say.
That you've become so fat and full,
That you're so plump and fleshy now.
All through your uncle's shepherd lad.*
* Oh Aunty dear, oh darling aunt.
THE SEWING-PARTY AT ALTINOVO 133
Let people freely talk of me,
Let people, all the neighbours say,
That if Fmfat and fleshy now,
If Fve become so plump and full, Ws from my father's wheaten bread.
Myfather's white and wheaten bread ;
For while I kneed it in the trough,
A basket-full of grapes I pluck,
And drink ajar of red, red wine.'
"
Staika blushed at this bitter inuendo ; her red cheeks
became as fiery as if she had dyed them in cochineal. The
spiteful giggles of the other girls pierced her to the heart.
Some, with assumed simpKcity, asked :
"
Why, however can one pick grapes and drink wine at
the same time ? The song must be all " wrong."
Why, of course, either the song's wrong or else the girl's
wrong," answered another.
This cutting criticism still further enraged Staika. She
threw a crushing look at the triumphant Ivan, and sang in
a voice that quivered with rage :
'' ' Oh Peika, brighter than the poppy
Is all your needlework so fine
And all my many many visits
Are all of these to be in vain ?
Gome, Peika, won't you have me, dear ?
'
*
Why, Yonko, why, you filthy drudge,
Could Peika ever fall in love
With such a swine-herd as yourself ;
A swine-herd, and a cattle drover —
Some wealthy farmer's filthy drudge ;
She'd put you down before the door,
The little door behind the house ;
That, when she passes in and out,
To fetch the calves and heifers in.
If she should chance to soil her shoes,
She'd wipe them clean upon your back."
It was a crushing repartee to a savage attack.
Staika now looked proudly round her. Her shaft had
struck home. Ivan Kill-the-Bear stood motionless, as if
transfixed, with staring eyes. A loud peal of laughter
greeted his discomfiture. The whole party was gazing
134 UNDER THE YOKE
curiously at him. Tears started to his eyes from very
shame and wounded vanity. The spectators laughed still
louder. The mistress of the house became " angry. What's the meaning of all this, girls ? Is this the way
to behave with the lads, instead of being kind and pleasant
to one another, as you ought to ? Staika — Ivan — you
ought to be cooing together like a pair of turtle-doves."
"
It's only lovers who quarrel," said Tsanko in a conciliatory
tone.
Ivan Kill-the-Bear rose and went out angrily, as if to
protest against these words.
"
Like loves like," averred Neda Liagovitcha. "
Well, Neda, God loves a good laugher," said Kono
Goran, Kill-the Bear's cousin.
"
Now, boys, sing us some old haidoud song, to put a
little life into us," said Tsanko. The lads sang in chorus :
