Anton Pavlovich Chekhov 



   An Adventure
    (A Driver's Story) 


    It was in that wood yonder, behind the creek, that  it  happened,  sir.  My 
father, the kingdom of Heaven be his, was taking five hundred  roubles  to  the 
master; in those days our fellows and the Shepelevsky  peasants  used  to  rent 
land from the master, so father was taking money  for  the  half-year.  He  was 
a God-fearing man, he used to read the  scriptures,  and  as  for  cheating  or 
wronging anyone, or defrauding - God forbid,  and  the  peasants  honoured  him 
greatly, and when someone had to be sent to the town about taxes or  such-like, 
or with money, they used to send him. He was a man above the ordinary, but, not 
that I'd speak ill of him, he had a weakness. He was fond of a drop. There  was 
no getting him past a tavern: he would go in, drink a glass, and be  completely 
done for! He was aware of this weakness in himself, and when  he  was  carrying 
public money, that he might not fall asleep or  lose  it  by  some  chance,  he 
always took me or my sister Anyutka with him. 
    To tell the truth, all our family have a great taste for vodka. I can  read 
and write, I served for six years at a tobacconist's in the  town,  and  I  can 
talk to any educated gentleman, and can use very  fine  language,  but,  it  is 
perfectly true, sir, as I read in a book, that vodka is  the  blood  of  Satan. 
Through vodka my face has darkened. And there is nothing seemly about  me,  and 
here, as you may see, sir, I am  a  cab-driver  like  an  ignorant,  uneducated 
peasant. 
    And so, as I was telling you, father was taking the money  to  the  master, 
Anyutka was going with him, and at that time Anyutka was seven or maybe eight - 
a silly chit, not that high. He got as far as Kalantchiko successfully, he  was 
sober, but when he reached Kalantchiko and went into  Moiseika's  tavern,  this 
same weakness of his came upon him. He drank three glasses and set to  bragging 
before people: 
    "I am a plain humble man," he says, "but I have five hundred roubles in  my 
pocket; if I like," says he, "I could buy up the tavern and  all  the  crockery 
and Moiseika and his Jewess and his little Jews. I can buy it all out and out," 
he said. That was his way of joking, to be sure, but then he began complaining: 
"It's a worry, good Christian people," said he, "to be a rich man, a  merchant, 
or anything of that kind. If you have no money you have no care,  if  you  have 
money you must watch over your pocket the whole time that wicked  men  may  not 
rob you. It's a terror to live in the world for a man who has a lot of money." 
    The drunken people listened of course, took it in, and made a note  of  it. 
And in those days they were making a railway line  at  Kalantchiko,  and  there 
were swarms and swarms of tramps and  vagabonds  of  all  sorts  like  locusts. 
Father pulled himself up afterwards, but  it  was  too  late.  A  word  is  not 
a sparrow, if it flies out you can't catch it. They drove, sir,  by  the  wood, 
and all at once there was someone galloping on horseback  behind  them.  Father 
was not of the chicken-hearted brigade - that I couldn't  say  -  but  he  felt 
uneasy; there was no regular road through the wood, nothing went that  way  but 
hay and timber, and there was no  cause  for  anyone  to  be  galloping  there, 
particularly in working hours. One wouldn't be galloping after any good. 
    "It seems as though they are after someone," said father to Anyutka,  "they 
are galloping so furiously. I ought to have kept quiet in the tavern,  a plague 
on my tongue. Oy, little daughter, my heart misgives  me,  there  is  something 
wrong!" 
    He did not spend long in hesitation about his dangerous  position,  and  he 
said to my sister Anyutka: 
    "Things don't look very bright, they really are in pursuit. Anyway, Anyutka 
dear, you take the money, put it away in your skirts, and go  and  hide  behind 
a bush. If by ill-luck they attack me, you run back to mother, and give her the 
money. Let her take it to the village elder. Only mind you don't let anyone see 
you; keep to the wood and by the creek, that no one may see you. Run your  best 
and call on the merciful God. Christ be with you!" 
    Father thrust the parcel of notes  on  Anyutka,  and  she  looked  out  the 
thickest of the bushes and hid herself. Soon  after,  three  men  on  horseback 
galloped up to father. One a stalwart, big-jawed fellow, in a crimson shirt and 
high boots, and the other two, ragged, shabby fellows, navvies from  the  line. 
As my father feared, so it really turned out,  sir.  The  one  in  the  crimson 
shirt, the sturdy, strong fellow, a man above the ordinary, left his horse, and 
all three made for my father. 
    "Halt you, so-and-so! Where's the money!" 
    "What money? Go to the devil!" 
    "Oh, the money you are taking the master for the rent. Hand  it  over,  you 
bald devil, or we will throttle you, and you'll die in your sins." 
    And they began to practise  their  villainy  on  father,  and,  instead  of 
beseeching them, weeping, or anything of the sort, father got angry  and  began 
to reprove them with the greatest severity. 
    "What are you pestering me for?" said he. "You are a dirty lot. There is no 
fear of God in you, plague take you! It's not money you want, but a beating, to 
make your backs smart for three years after. Be off,  blockheads,  or  I  shall 
defend myself. I have a revolver that takes six bullets, it's in my bosom!" 
    But his words did not deter the robbers, and they began  beating  him  with 
anything they could lay their hands on. 
    They looked through everything in the cart, searched my father  thoroughly, 
even taking off his boots; when they found that beating father  only  made  him 
swear at them the more, they began torturing him in all sorts of ways. All  the 
time Anyutka was sitting behind the bush, and she saw it all, poor  dear.  When 
she saw father lying on the ground and gasping, she started  off  and  ran  her 
hardest through the thicket and the creek towards home. She was only  a  little 
girl, with no understanding; she did not know the way, just ran on not  knowing 
where she was going. It was some six miles to our home. Anyone else might  have 
run there in an hour, but a little child, as we all know, takes two steps  back 
for one forwards, and indeed it is not everyone who can  run  barefoot  through 
the prickly bushes; you want to be used to it, too, and our girls  used  always 
to be crowding together on the stove or in the yard,  and were afraid to run in 
the forest. 
    Towards evening Anyutka somehow reached a habitation, she  looked,  it  was 
a hut. It was the forester's hut, in the  Crown  forest;  some  merchants  were 
renting it at the  time  and  burning  charcoal.  She  knocked.  A  woman,  the 
forester's wife, came out to her. Anyutka, first of all, burst out crying,  and 
told her everything just as it was, and even told  her  about  the  money.  The 
forester's wife was full of pity for her. 
    "My poor little dear! Poor mite, God has preserved you, poor little one! My 
precious! Come into the hut, and I will give you something to eat." 
    She began to make up to Anyutka, gave her food and  drink,  and  even  wept 
with her, and was so attentive to her that the girl, only think, gave  her  the 
parcel of notes. 
    "I will put it away, darling, and to-morrow morning I will give it you back 
and take you home, dearie." 
    The woman took the money, and put Anyutka to sleep on the  stove  where  at 
the time the brooms were drying. And on the same  stove,  on  the  brooms,  the 
forester's daughter, a girl as small as our Anyutka, was  asleep.  And  Anyutka 
used to tell us afterwards that there was such a scent from  the  brooms,  they 
smelt of honey! Anyutka lay down, but she could not  get  to  sleep,  she  kept 
crying quietly; she was sorry for father, and terrified. But, sir, an  hour  or 
two passed, and she saw those very three robbers who had tortured  father  walk 
into the hut; and the one in the crimson shirt, with big  jaws,  their  leader, 
went up to the woman and said: 
    "Well, wife, we have simply murdered a man for nothing.  To-day  we  killed 
a man at dinner-time, we killed him all right, but not a farthing did we find." 
    So this fellow in the crimson shirt turned out  to  be  the  forester,  the 
woman's husband. 
    "The man's dead for nothing," said his ragged companions. "In vain we  have 
taken a sin on our souls." 
    The forester's wife looked at all three and laughed. 
    "What are you laughing at, silly?" 
    "I am laughing because I haven't murdered anyone, and I have not taken  any 
sin on my soul, but I have found the money." 
    "What money? What nonsense are you talking!" 
    "Here, look whether I am talking nonsense." 
    The forester's wife untied the parcel and, wicked woman,  showed  them  the 
money. Then she described how Anyutka had come, what she had said, and  so  on. 
The murderers were delighted and began to divide the money between  them,  they 
almost quarrelled, then they sat down to the table, you  know,  to  drink.  And 
Anyutka lay there, poor child, hearing every word and shaking  like  a  Jew  in 
a frying-pan. What was she to do? And from their words she learned that  father 
was dead and lying across the road, and she fancied, in her  foolishness,  that 
the wolves and the dogs would eat father, and that our horse had gone far  away 
into the forest, and would be eaten  by  wolves  too,  and  that  she,  Anyutka 
herself, would be put in prison and beaten, because she had not taken  care  of 
the money. The robbers got drunk and sent the woman for vodka.  They  gave  her 
five roubles for vodka and sweet wine. They set  to  singing  and  drinking  on 
other people's money. They drank and drank, the dogs, and sent  the  woman  off 
again that they might drink beyond all bounds. 
    "We will keep it up till morning," they cried. "We  have  plenty  of  money 
now, there is no need to spare! Drink, and don't drink away your wits." 
    And so at midnight, when they were all fairly fuddled, the  woman  ran  off 
for vodka the third time, and  the  forester  strode  twice  up  and  down  the 
cottage, and he was staggering. 
    "Look here, lads," he said, "we must make away with the girl,  too!  If  we 
leave her, she will be the first to bear witness against us." 
    They talked it over and discussed it,  and decided that Anyutka must not be 
left alive, that she must be killed. Of course, to murder an innocent child's a 
fearful thing, even a man drunken or  crazy  would  not  take  such  a  job  on 
himself. They were quarrelling for maybe an hour which was  to  kill  her,  one 
tried to put it on the other, they almost fought again, and no one would  agree 
to do it; then they cast lots. It fell to the forester. He drank  another  full 
glass, cleared his throat, and went to the outer room for an axe. 
    But Anyutka was a sharp wench. For all she was so simple,  she  thought  of 
something that, I must say, not many an educated man  would  have  thought  of. 
Maybe the Lord had compassion on her, and gave her sense  for  the  moment,  or 
perhaps it was the fright sharpened her wits, anyway when it came to  the  test 
it turned out that she was cleverer than anyone. She got up stealthily,  prayed 
to God, took the little sheepskin, the one the forester's  wife  had  put  over 
her, and, you understand, the forester's little daughter, a girl  of  the  same 
age as herself, was lying on the stove beside her. She covered this  girl  with 
the sheepskin, and took the woman's jacket off her and threw it  over  herself. 
Disguised herself, in fact. She put it over her head, and so walked across  the 
hut by the drunken men, and they thought it was the  forester's  daughter,  and 
did not even look at her. Luckily for her the woman was not in the hut, she had 
gone for vodka, or maybe she would not have escaped the axe, for a woman's eyes 
are as far-seeing as a buzzard's. A woman's eyes are sharp. 
    Anyutka came out of the hut, and ran as fast as her legs could  carry  her. 
All night she was lost in the forest, but towards morning she came out  to  the 
edge and ran along the road. By the mercy  of  God  she  met  the  clerk  Yegor 
Danilitch, the kingdom of Heaven be his. He was going along with his  hooks  to 
catch fish. Anyutka told him all about it. He went back quicker than he  came - 
thought no more of the fish - gathered the peasants together  in  the  village, 
and off they went to the forester's. 
    They got there, and all the murderers were lying side by side, dead  drunk, 
each where he had fallen; the woman, too, was drunk. First thing they  searched 
them; they took the money and then looked on the stove - the Holy Cross be with 
us! The forester's child was lying on the brooms, under the sheepskin, and  her 
head was in a pool of blood, chopped off by the axe. They roused  the  peasants 
and the woman, tied their hands behind them, and  took  them  to  the  district 
court; the woman howled, but the forester only shook his head and asked: 
    "You might give me a drop, lads! My head aches!" 
    Afterwards they were tried in the town in due course, and punished with the 
utmost rigour of the law. 
    So that's what happened, sir, beyond the forest there, that lies behind the 
creek. Now you can scarcely see it, the sun is setting red behind  it.  I  have 
been talking to you, and the horses have stopped, as though they were listening 
too. Hey there, my beauties! Move more briskly, the good gentleman will give us 
something extra. Hey, you darlings! 

    1887

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