With Fire and Sword - Henryk Sienkiewicz (ink book reader .TXT) 📗

complain that so much Christian blood was flowing; finally they treated one another to tobacco and gorailka.

“All, gentlemen,” said the old Zaporojians, “if you had stood up like this always, there would have been no Jóltiya Vodi, Korsún, or Pilavtsi. You are real devils, not men, such as we have not seen yet in the world.”

“Come tomorrow and the day after; you will always find us the same.”

“We’ll come; but thank God now for the breathing-spell! A power of Christian blood is flowing; but, anyhow, hunger will conquer you.”

“The king will come before hunger; we have just eaten a hearty meal.”

“If provisions fail us, we will go to your tabors,” said Zagloba, with his hand on his hip.

“God grant Father Zatsvilikhovski to make some agreement with our hetman! If he doesn’t, we shall have an assault this evening.”

“We are already tired of waiting for you.”

“The Khan has promised that you’ll all get your ‘fate.’ ”

“And our prince has promised the Khan that he will drag him by the beard at his horse’s tail.”

“He is a wizard, but he can’t do that.”

“Better for you to go with our prince against the Pagans than to raise your hands against the authorities.”

“H’m! with your prince! Nice work indeed!”

“Why do you revolt? The king will come; fear the king. Prince Yeremi was a father to you too⁠—”

“Such a father, as Death is mother. The plague has not killed so many brave heroes as he.”

“He will be worse; you don’t know him yet.”

“We don’t want to know him. Our old men say that whatever Cossack looks him in the eye is given to death.”

“It will be so with Hmelnitski.”

“God knows what will be. This is sure, that it is not for them both to live in the white world. Our father says if you would give him up Yeremi he would let you all go free, and bow down to the king with all of us.”

Here the soldiers began to frown and grit their teeth.

“Be silent, or we’ll draw our sabres!”

“You Poles are angry, but you’ll have your ‘fate.’ ”

And so they conversed, sometimes pleasantly and sometimes with threats, which, in spite of them, burst out like thunder-peals. In the afternoon Zatsvilikhovski returned to the camp. There were no negotiations, and a cessation of arms was not obtained. Hmelnitski put forth monstrous demands⁠—that the prince and Konyetspolski should be given up to him. Finally he told over the wrongs of the Zaporojians, and began to persuade Zatsvilikhovski to remain with him for good; whereupon the old knight was enraged, sprang up, and went away. In the evening followed an assault, which was repulsed with blood. The whole camp was in fire for two hours. The Cossacks were not only hurled from the walls, but the infantry captured the first intrenchment, destroyed the embrasures, the shelters, and burned fourteen moving towers. Hmelnitski swore that night to the Khan that he would not withdraw while a man remained alive in the camp.

The next day at dawn brought fresh musketry-firing, digging under the ramparts, and a battle till evening with flails, scythes, sabres, stones, and clods of earth. The friendly feeling of the day before, and regret at the spilling of Christian blood gave way to still greater obstinacy. Rain began to fall in the morning. That day half-rations were issued to the soldiers, at which Zagloba complained greatly, but in general empty stomachs redoubled the rage of the Poles. They swore to fall one after the other, and not to surrender to the last breath. The evening brought new assaults from the Cossacks, disguised as Turks, lasting, however, but a short time. A night full of uproar and cries followed, “a very quarrelsome night.” Firing did not cease for a moment. Both sides challenged each other; they fought in groups and pairs. Pan Longin went out to the skirmish, but no one would stand before him; they merely fired at him from a distance. But Stempovski covered himself with great glory, and also Volodyovski, who in single combat killed the famous partisan Dundar.

At last Zagloba himself came out, but only to encounters of the tongue. “After killing Burlai,” said he, “I cannot meet every common scrub!” But in the encounter of tongues he found no equal among the Cossacks, and he brought them to despair; when covered with a good embankment he cried, as if under the ground, with a stentorian voice⁠—

“Sit here at Zbaraj, you clowns, but the Lithuanian soldiers are going down the Dnieper. They are saluting your wives and young women. Next spring you will find crowds of little Botvinians in your cottages, if you find the cottages.”

The Lithuanian army was really descending the Dnieper, under Kadzivil, burning and destroying, leaving only land and water. The Cossacks knowing this fell into a rage, and in answer hailed bullets on Zagloba, as a man shakes pears from a tree. But Zagloba took good care of his head behind the embankment, and cried again⁠—

“You have missed, you dog-spirits, but I didn’t miss Burlai. I am alone here; come to a duel with me! You know me! Come on, you clowns! shoot on while you have a chance, for next winter you’ll be taking care of young Tartars in the Crimea, or making dams on the Dnieper. Come on, come on! I’ll give a copper for the head of your Hmel. Give him a whack on the snout from me, from Zagloba, do you hear? Hei! you filthy fools, is it little of your carrion that lies on the field smelling like dead dogs? The plague sends her respects to you. To your forks, to your ploughs, to your boats, you scurvy villains! It is for you to tug salt and dried cherries against the current of the Dnieper, not to stand in our way.”

The Cossacks had their laugh too at the “Panowie21 who have one biscuit for three,” and they were asked why they did not collect their taxes and tithes.