Читать книгу Shackles - S. Skitalec - Страница 5

In the wood the cart with two horsemen drove. The miller Chelyak, stocky, wide, all convex as if a bucket-chelyak which pour grain drove the horse. Elizar sat next. In a back of the cart some construction from a popular print and a wire was attached.

When the cart drove in the wood, the miller stopped a horse.

– Tprr!. climb, a postrelyata! on Proran we go!

Children scrambled in the cart, and it zadrebezzhat on the familiar forest road.

After the cart the youth – guys and maids, as always to a holiday went groups. The miller knocked on a popular print and told laughing:

– Мотови́ ло-готови́ ло on a prozvanye “фир” – at it there are a lot of holes!

Children laughed, though did not understand intricate words of Chelyak.

– Flying carpet! – smiling, Elizar added and, having turned back to Chelyak, continued the interrupted conversation: – Whether it will be possible whether is not present, but there is no doubt that the science will achieve the and the person will fly as a bird…

The miller trifled a broad chestnut beard and anxiously frowned shaggy eyebrows. His old kazinetovy jacket was through impregnated with flour dust.

– Science! – derisively it pokryakhtet, jumping up on potholes – and where to take it to the man? You understand everything!. I from time immemorial – the miller: I look at gear wheels, at all mill structure, I look as the mill waves wings, but cannot depart!. and here the thought was! Twenty years I build, but I cannot reach… there is no help from anybody! My car is only the first experience, model… shortcomings at it – a plenty… there are no words, I tested it – went down from a mill – to float! and now through Proran I can…

He kept silent, groaning and leaning sinewy hands against edges of the cart. Having stooped, resembled the bird ready to fly up.

– And you what you build? – having kept silent, he asked Elizar.

– Built to a self-skating rink long ago, threw and again was accepted… I want to try again now… You are here a miller, and I from youth work at the plants… saw many models. Modeller I… Looked in books… It appears – the physics should be known: without efty knowledge you are knocked by a forehead about everything as the blind person…

– Here that and it: as a bug on a thread…

– But my main thought not in efty!. other, highest, big thought! – Elizar sighed.

– What?

Elizar shook curls, kept silent and told, having lowered a voice:

– The steam plane – here a thought!

The miller waved hands, splashed palms, nearly fell out of the cart and again caught a nakleska. Then, too having lowered a voice, whispered:

– On conscience I will tell you, and I fight! Does not leave! Hitch!. The tree feels ill at ease we cut…

– Be silent! – annoyancely Elizar interrupted. – Experiences are necessary! experiences! There will pass, maybe, one thousand years, not only the plane will be invented, and all life will change, heaven and earth will be moved… all work will be executed by the car, and the person will have only one – the highest work – a thought!. you remember, look back back what the mankind reached? Whether long ago steamships and engines went? And to efty only in the fairy tale Ivan the Fool on pike command went by an oven!. All laughed at Englishman Fulton who adapted a boiler, nobody trusted, nobody supported, with hunger the genius died!. And left on its!. And of course – instead of the flying carpet – the steam-engine will depart! Will depart! In efty there is no doubt!. And by self-skating rinks will go very much even to fast time… but will sometime open also the perpetual motion machine!

– Can be! not at us only!

– And how nobility? The science is more wonderful than any miracles!. The thought works not only for you yes at me!. to a mozha, thousands of the heads, not to us a couple, fight… and I trust: people will achieve! inevitably!

In a back of the cart wooden gear castors – one lay more, another – is less, a wooden box, and from the cart two long popular prints similar to sails with the wire fastened to them overhung. Children wanted to touch and turn gear castors, to take wire rods. Vukol stretched was a hand, but the father strictly shook finger at him and continued an unclear conversation.

The cart slid through the Spiked glade to the very tall black poplars going to the sky the tops hooting under warm wind. They a ridge stood on the very brink of high clay break, and through their branches silver of the wide river flashed. The brisk horse ran on the soft road cheerfully and quickly, wind blew sideways, blowing off her tail and a mane on the party.

The miller stopped the cart, drove under a shadow of black poplars. They were so enormous that a horse with the cart and people on it seemed toy, tops of trees as if went to clouds: on the foozle of the cut black poplar the cart could go in. Noise of widely raskinuty silvery branches merged in solemnly floating string rumble. Several enormous trees which are washed away by a high water under the roots fell down tops down and lay as prostrate giants, with naked roots, with even green branches. In the bottom of break the raging, bubbling sleeve of Volga, almost same wide, as well as it – Proran, a bend separated from Volga from which it was separated by the narrow oblong island densely overgrown with a young talnik rushed. Behind the island Proran, bending around it, again connected to radical Volga, forming as if a beach width in several kilometers.

– Vzmor! – told Laurels enthusiastically, showing on the island.

Far on the horizon the mountain coast of Volga slightly became blue and similar rose humpbacked, to a cloud, the gloomy mountain the Barge hauler. Lower mountains on the Volga Current it was hardly possible to distinguish the small town with several churches and the familiar tower reminding the sugar head.

The horse of a vypryagla was also tied to the cart put close to a tree trunk in several grasps. Thick boughs stretched over break. Deeply below Proran roared, the screw its terrible rapid turned, shaking up yellowish foam. Water had a fishing tent, and several fishermen sat with the long rods strengthened on pegs ashore. On a trick three-four boats shook.

With curiosity, having raised the heads, fishermen watched how Chelyak and Elizar pottered about about the cart, knocking hammers.

From the Spiked glade the audience – guys, maids, children approached – the crowd was formed. Chelyak angrily cried on them that departed far away.

Masters assembled the small mechanism with a gear wheel and a spring, with a wooden crossbeam in a bottom of the open basten wings reminding wings of a huge eagle.

Chelyak from the cart got on a direct and long bough, walked all on it.

Elizar lifted and stretched him the aircraft. Slowly and carefully involved the mechanism on a tree branch. Chelyak long pottered, measured something, leveled the wings raised over his head and began to get a spring.

– My God, bless! I fly!

Elizar got into the boat and across floated through Proran.

Cracked, began to patter in branches, and all saw an extraordinary show: the unusual bird soared up over Proran, rising above and above, like a kite. The beard of the miller and a leg in boots flashed. It seemed that the dragon flies and carries the person in the claws: under open wings the lump of the small human figure sitting on a crossbeam was seen.

The plane described an arch over Proran and began to decrease in Vzmor’s talnik. Decreased slowly and – as it seemed to the stood crowd – very long. From a distance resembled already the kite who caught production.

The winged being fell to tops of a dense talnik, potrepykhatsya and disappeared in him. Elizar stuck to a sandy shallow, jumped out of the boat and ran to the scene.

The crowd rustled.

– Flew? and? fathers!

– It was killed?

– Do not know!

Rushed from a steep slope to the coast. Put palms to eyes, looked. Some jumped in boats.

But here on the bank of Vzmor there was Elizar, bearing on shoulders basten wings. Behind it, limping, Chelyak hobbled.

– It is live! Sly fellow!

– And god, perhaps, will not praise for it? Took in head to fly supposedly?

When the boat moored, on hands pulled out it on the clay coast. Chelyak was pale, the sleeve of his jacket came off at all, on a cheek blood flowed. It wiped it a red scarf.

Elizar stood ahead of all. His beard shivered, in eyes there were tears. He wanted to tell something and could not. On sand fragments of wings lay.

The crowd started talking at once:

– See, darling, saw death!

– Death to be afraid – not to live on light!

– Without courage there is no home brew also!

– It, so put: or a breast in crosses, or the head in bushes! Was able, means! without ability and a bast shoe you will not weave!

– Here those and car! – told, sighing, Chelyak – into smithereens! Invented everything, everything looked for what-s!

– That will also find – who looks for! Nothing, the brother, fell you, and towered! – Elizar told.

The inventor looked on died a child and repeated, sighing, a favourite saying:

– Prepared – a reel on a prozvanye фир – at it many holes!

* * *

Before evening, as always for a Pentecost, maids in festive bright attires stood in the row the middle of the street and with lingering songs went to Dubrova to look for cuckoo slezk. It was the ancient cheerful custom.

The village since lordly times was divided into two ends by a hillock on which there was a column with an inscription: on the one hand: “the 1st society” and with another – “the 2nd society”, but in a spoken language the second society was called in the old manner “Children’s corvee”: since serfdom when a half of the village was bequeathed by the landowner in favor of children.

“Children’s corvee” had the village fence at the very end of the village, and Dubrova was seen behind a village fence: it was the reserved small wood, dense, curly, almost all the birch, going-down on the abrupt coast Postepka who in this place was deeper and wider, than about Zaymishcha, and all was covered with floating burdocks with white water colors. In ancient times there was an extensive landowner park, but now he ran wild long ago, grew with a dense thicket and turned into a beautiful virgin oak grove. Through the wood there was badly nayezzhenny sandy road, and in the depth of the wood, on a glade, there was big wooden, with mezzanines, the former mansion; in it there lived the merchant Zavyalov now.

The merchant often and for a long time left on affairs, most seldom who saw him and knew. Sometimes only through the village the merchant carriage with the driver in a plisovy sleeveless jacket, with the white-faced mistresses and young ladies sitting in it passed, looking at whom, women marveled to their whiteness, being perplexed that they eat it from what food it is possible to be such white-skinned?

Between the merchant who replaced the landowner, and full alienation was the village, but there was no open hostility. Deafly regretted that did not guess in due time to buy Dubrova and the earth adjoining to her when the landowner sold a manor, but then, during “release of peasants”, old men hoped that the earth will depart them for nothing. Men of the earth did not buy; now inhabitants, being sorry about it, envied the merchant: the harvest on its earth was always better than rustic. Removed the state earth at Listratov, and they through it that look will leave in merchants; but also against Listratov had no rage: each man on their place would arrive as Listratova. It was good luck, happiness, were annoyed only with the “old men” who missed the earth. The village thought that from the dubrovsky merchant neighbor the village neither dobra, nor did not see a harm. He sometimes exhausted the country cattle which came on its meadows and took for a potrava, but took “on conscience”, and sometimes and forgave. Also maids on holidays were not forbidden to walk across Dubrove; fellings did not happen, men had the wood better and more merchant Dubrova.

Walk for a Trinity to Dubrova behind cuckoo slezka was legalized by long custom. Now, as well as in old times, maids found in the most shady places of Dubrova gentle blue florets – cuckoo slezk. Surely everyone weaved a wreath, put on it the open head; had something in common in the wood, hallooed and, having acquired in plenty, came back in blue wreaths, singing lingering ringing songs. It was the maiden holiday, to guys to coordinate for maids to Dubrova was not in custom: behind a crowd of the singing girls decorated with cuckoo slezka only rural children skipping ran.

When maids were turned back from Dubrova, day already tended to evening, from log huts on the green street long cool shadows were stretched.

The festive round dance gathered on a meadow against a village fence, at the grandfather Matvei’s log hut. Old men and old women sat on a zavalinka, women on a grass, having gathered in a circle, loudly gossiped, without listening to each other. On a meadow of the maid and guys, having joined in pairs hands, drove a round dance with singing, “played” as a theatrical show, spring songs.

In the middle of a moving circle stood one, other girl in a wreath from cuckoo slezok, the guy tried to break to it, but it was not let. The round dance sang:

In the city – the tsarevna,

And in the country – the tsarevitch:

Be opened gate,

As there is a tsarevitch to the tsarevna…

The guy was passed in a circle, and it made everything that was told by the song.

You take it for the handle,

Lead round around a gorodochka!

The round dance was surrounded by the audience; groups stood, watching a game. Children ran and somersaulted on a soft green grass. Among the audience there was also a grandmother, talked to the neighbor. Suddenly from a zavalinka the grandfather Matvei approached it, embraced it, small, heavy ruchishchy and with playful importance walked with it by a round dance, as if wishing to tell:

– Here is how we, old men! And well you, youth?

The round dance approvingly laughed. The grandmother laughed too, slightly заалевшись as the girl, having passed with we rasshutivshitsya by the grandfather.

Vukol stood at gate of a dedovy log hut, at some distance from all and sadly looked at a cheerful round dance: there was no Gruni, and without it all this seemed to him boring. But here, at last, also it came; he still from a distance recognized it by air, light step, by a red bandage on black as a resin, hair. With its arrival the round dance even more quickened, maiden laughter rang out, guys молодцевато assumed a dignified air. It was put “tsarevna”.

The Svirelny voice of Gruni was allocated from all chorus:

As by the sea, the sea blue

Floated a swan from lebedyata,

With small, from a detyatama…

Otkol undertook млад the falcon is clear,

Bruise-killed swan white?

It started up down on skies…

And plumelets lengthways on a berezhka…

Highly in the sky fancy heaps of clouds, scarlet from setting the sun slowly floated.

Vukol looked at Grunya from a distance and the more looked, the felt bigger pleasure from contemplation of her beautiful face. It seemed, it as the sun, lights all. From its presence it became joyful on heart. He looked after it when it went in a circle, listened as she started singing the new, bystry, cheerful song:

Sun at sunset,

Time on loss,

Maids sat down on a luzhok,

Where muravka and flower…

Children of all village cheerfully ran about a round dance, only it one stood alone and watched everything at it.

The sun sat down behind the oak wood. The scarlet flame of a decline became crimson. The shadows stretched in all width of the green street seemed more dark and more sad. Suddenly Grunya left a round dance and the bystry, light step went directly to it, approached closely. Vukol saw her face directly before himself: on her dark-haired head still there was a wreath from cuckoo slezok, on Vukol blew softly them the delicate perfume which mixed up with a smell of Gruniny hair pakhnut warmth of a swarty, strong body.

– You what is cost here by one? – she asked with a crafty smile – lonely what! on here you!

Also stretched it something, wrapped in a piece of paper.

Vukol’s heart was driven in, tears in the eyes gathered. It silently accepted a gift and suddenly all flashed to ears, without reducing from it an enthusiastic look. Grunya too suddenly reddened. People for some reason stopped and watched them. Burst of laughter by all round dance sounded.

Grunya, as if having become angry, quickly turned and went back. The round dance started singing.

Vukol developed a piece of paper: there was an excellent steel “aglitsky” rod!

Whether the beauty laughed at it, a children’s gift having hinted that he is still a child that to it early to be lost in contemplation of maidens, or, on the contrary, understood somebody better and felt, than she suddenly became for it?

Vukol did not know what is with him and whether it is possible to decide to call that feeling which so early was woken up in his children’s heart, but, shaken, mocked and made happy at the same time, having pressed its gift to storming heart, escaped from a round dance for a grandfather’s log hut, buried in the soft, covered by evening dew grass, hiding burning, unclear to him tears.

* * *

For a mowing went to the steppe for many versts from the village, lived in the steppe all summer. Arranged the big tent called by “camp”, spread in it koshma and hid edibles. Stocked up with a keg of ice cold well water, whetted hammers scythes, sharpened them long whetstone and turned to work.

In the first braid there was a grandfather Matvei, Yafim hardly kept up with him, and to kids gave the certain site – to learn to mow. To sense from their mowing there was a little, but children did not do to rake up hay a rake, and in particular when took kopeshka to a stack a horse to whose collar the rope hooking on a kopeshka and dragging it dragging to a stack became attached; had to operate a horse riding, and here the child replaced the adult and was even more convenient: it is easier than a horse.

Children sent horses on a watering place, made fire in the evening and in general were necessary on small affairs and parcels. Nastya and Ondrevna raked up hay together with children, in the village the grandmother domovnichat.

The juicy, dense grass laid down direct ranks and quickly dried under the scorching beams of the sun. All body ached from this hard and fascinating work.

Long summer day was divided into four “upovod” – from sunrise to snack, from snack till a breakfast, from a breakfast till a lunch and from a lunch till a dinner when the sun left for the end of the earth. Had a rest only after a lunch. Scary tired, filled up instantly, anywhere: in a cart shadow, under a shadow of a grass shock, under a bush. Slept like a log, and it seemed – only fell asleep when the severe voice of the grandfather calling for work was distributed.

By noon the mowed grass dried, women and children raked up dry hay in small kopeshka.

On a sunset all with braids and a rake on shoulders came back to a camp. Made fire and boiled in a copper gruel – millet with potato. The same fires appeared around on all steppe. Slowly the evening dawn when in the deep sky flickering stars already began to move went out. The steppe sensitively dozed, in silence of steppe evening each sound was far heard: someone’s far conversation, silvery neighing of a horse, the sad lingering song, and after a dinner when on all steppe mowers began to whet hammers scythes and melodiously steel ringed – it seemed that giant strings stretched from one end of the earth to another.

But little by little strings calmed down, fires died away, and everything filled up, only a myriads of mosquitoes filled with a thin ring drowsy air. It was possible to sleep only under bed curtains which was stretched on four low pegs.

Quickly short summer night flew by, and heavy day of work was started over again.

When all hay was slanted, ranks raked up in kopeshka, kopeshka in big shocks – and, at last, began to throw a stack. For children there was the most pleasant work – to go astride a horse and to dragging bring shocks to a stack. The stack was removed by the grandfather, and Yafim gave it a trekhrogy wooden pitchfork heavy armfuls of hay. On the growing stack placed children – to knead hay, and they floundered in it, rolling up to a breast in fragrant green waves. To sweep away a stack the correct cone that it did not leave lopsided, the wide experience, and the grandfather always was required itself managed this responsible business. Having finished a stack, carefully went down from it on a rope, brushed with a rake, prignetat from above thick slega and then left the field till winter; found a stack on special signs in the winter and transported hay on the wood sledge big heavy carts.

So there took place the haymaking week after a week. Worked tensely and hastily to harvest hay till the rains.

Hardly the haymaking came to an end, kept up жнитво, and then a threshing. Sheaves put in ricks, and then in ometa, similar to stacks to protect bread from casual summer rains. Sometimes for several days there came the bad weather, and then waited it in a tent or a tent, forcedly wasting working hours in inaction. But was hardly established buckets as the threshing began. About an omet arranged current – the round cleared-away platform – and dimmed it sheaves. Connected in a circle not less than five horses by reins – bridles of one horse to a tail another; here again children were necessary. Vukol and Laurels in turn became with a whip in the middle of a horse round dance and, gradually coming, drove a circle, adhering to edges of the current laid by sheaves. For want of habit at first at them from flashing of horses the head was turned, but, having accustomed, they with pleasure sent horses, patting a whip and shouting at them. Ded, Yafim and women methodically removed at this time a rake the straw threshed by hoofs of horses until on current did not remain жито together with chaff. Then horses were brought together from current, жито raked up aside, and current was dimmed again sheaves, already by the whole days, did not come to an end yet omt. Then the grandfather and Yafim blew жито, throwing it shovels downwind. Carried chaff wind, and pure жито fell on smooth current.

By the evening to children charged to drive horses on a watering place to the next steppe well, sometimes to the lake or the small river. Horses was five, the sixth – Karyukhin Vask’s foal. Boys walked all without saddle, three horses with a foal ran ahead. Also one person could drive such small herd, but the unseparable uncle and the nephew were sent together everywhere to accustom both to work and the treatment of horses. The trip on a verst watering place for two, for three was always for both great pleasure.

At the same time the difference of their characters affected: Vukol took himself Mishka, a young karakovy zherebchik, by all means bridled it though in it there was no need, invigorated, forced to dance or let gallop, and the Laurels were afraid behind it on the old man Chalke and laughed loudly over the nephew’s whims. As a result Vukol came back on the sweated horse, and Laurels on dry, hozyaystvenno preserving and feeling sorry for her while the desperate nephew without need rushed on жнивью with risk to break to itself the head. The laurels admonished and convinced the friend not маять a horse in vain, warned that the grandfather will swear if he learns, but itself and hid Vukol’s tricks.

So they lived in the steppe all summer, until the end of August when, at last, the threshing was ended. Nastya and Ondrevna went to the country.

Having spread in carts it is line, loaded carts with the golden, nourishingly smelling wheat, accurately sewn up with a thick needle, covered with integral tawing skin, stuck ropes and a slow wagon train, at a slow pace, at a dawn moved on the wide steppe road to a long journey. With a forward cart the grandfather, behind it Yafim went to Chalke, and two little friends were located on the last a supply.

It was good to lie on a cart from which smelled of wheat and tar, to take out sometimes from a bag a chunk of sitnik and to indulge in infinite friendly chats.

The steppe was enormous, majestic and sad. Fields were naked, the grass is mowed, fields are compressed. Here and there were seen, stacks and ometa which are not threshed yet. Highly in the sky flew to the South from time to time, having constructed by the correct triangle, wild geese and ducks.

The sun climbed up above and above, promising hot August day. Soared. The small white cloudlet heaved in sight, it quickly increased and soon turned into the fancy snow-white mountains which were piled up one on another. Pulled a crude breeze. On the road, being turned, small whirlwinds ran, dust twirled a column.

At this time a wagon train, having climbed up a slope, began to go down on the abrupt road. Chalka was the great master of it: it almost on grain slipped from the mountain, resting against the earth all four hoofs, with the tense breast-band and the collar shifted to the head. Yafim going to Karyukhe came off a cart, holding it by the bridle and resting a shoulder against collar tugs. Having looked back, he saw that the cart swings inexperienced Mishka here and there. Then he let to Karyukh one, and itself ran up to the cart of children and made it in time: children with the last bit of strength pulled reins, but the young zherebchik worried, without being able to hold a cart yet. Yafim seized him by a bridle, rested against a tug. The neck of the man reddened, from under bast shoes dust flew, roadside stones slid, but at once it became easier for a zherebchik, and it, like Chalke, began to slip slowly on grain. From a half of descent forward carts rushed a large lynx. Then Yafim jumped on a cart, snatched out reins at children, pulled. The bear felt in strong, skilled hands, went from the half-mountain the correct, bystry course. For nervousness and fear children did not notice that in the steppe it became more dark, on the mountain shadows ran, wind whistled in ears, and Yafim’s shirt was inflated with a bubble.

Only when horses dropped into a walk again, friends looked around themselves: on the sky crept, closing the sun, a huge blue cloud. Somewhere away grumbled the remote thunder.

– Chapan take! – Yafim told, throwing him reins, and ran to catch up to Karyukh. On forward to a cart the grandfather already with the head was covered line.

After a thunder the first heavy drops of a rain fell. Children took out prepared чапан and, having nestled to each other, muffled in it. Absolutely darkened as in twilight, and suddenly, having broken off darkness, through all sky convulsively, breaks the curve fiery crack ran, for a moment lit all steppe to the horizon, and the awful roar with a crash came on a silver platter on the earth. It seemed, the earth trembled.

Heavy rain rushed.

Long silver streams clouds streamed, gave to drink the greedy steppe. Streams on the dirty road ran, wide pools on each side it spread, the rain bubbles similar to jingles jumped and burst. Lightnings continuously lit the steppe, and fiery eyes of angry Ilya seemed in them. The flaring wheels roared on the heavenly road, on clouds rushed and deafeningly winged fiery horses neighed. Noise of a rain and juicy explosions of a thunder merged in fine and terrible music.

The bear from karakovy turned in black, its wet wool shone, hoofs champed, spraying liquid dirt. Behind the frequent grid of a rain, fog which drew the sky and the steppe it was not visible going ahead.

Children shivered under become wet chapany. The rain through punched its rough prickly sackcloth. To wheels dirt stuck, drenching with fat lumps the cart. Tired horses, kneading pool hoofs, slowly pulled the creaking carts.

Thunder, being removed, calmed down, the lightning sparkled more and more seldom, the thunder-storm reconciled, grew weak, the rain ran low, the broken-off clouds left for the horizon, and the sun suddenly looked out: the washed, become green steppe began to sparkle in millions of splashes, was lit by warm fog as if sighed a full breast.

Native, familiar places Zavidnetsya: a lonely brittle willow on a hillock and flat, similar to the stiffened wave, the mountain which from time immemorial it is unknown in whose memory called the Zhadayevy mountain. Further a barn zaserela from ometa of sheaves and straw, gardens, kitchen gardens, straw and board roofs of log huts.

Here the road turned out almost dry, the thunder-storm passed the steppe, having touched a small village only with one of the wide wings.

At a village fence left a straw tent shabby Rolling in a soldier’s old cap, with a tube in teeth and opened creaking gate.