trampled
grass. The sun had not yet risen, but by now all the barrows could be
seen and, like a cloud in the distance, Saur's Grave with its peaked
top. If one clambered up on that tomb one could see the plain from it,
level and boundless as the sky, one could see villages, manor-houses,
the settlements of the Germans and of the Molokani, and a long-sighted
Kalmuck could even see the town and the railway-station. Only from there
could one see that there was something else in the world besides the
silent steppe and the ancient barrows, that there was another life that
had nothing to do with buried treasure and the thoughts of sheep.

The old man felt beside him for his crook--a long stick with a hook
at the upper end--and got up. He was silent and thoughtful. The young
shepherd's face had not lost the look of childish terror and curiosity.
He was still under the influence of what he had heard in the night, and
impatiently awaiting fresh stories.

"Grandfather," he asked, getting up and taking his crook, "what did your
brother Ilya do with the soldier?"

The old man did not hear the question. He looked absent-mindedly at the
young man, and answered, mumbling with his lips:

"I keep thinking, Sanka, about that writing that was shown to that
soldier at Ivanovka. I didn't tell Panteley--God be with him--but you
know in that writing the place was marked out so that even a woman could
find it. Do you know where it is? At Bogata Bylotchka at the spot,
you know, where the ravine parts like a goose's foot into three little
ravines; it is the middle one."

"Well, will you dig?"

"I will try my luck..."

"And, grandfather, what will you do with the treasure when you find it?"

"Do with it?" laughed the old man. "H'm!... If only I could find it
then.... I would show them all.... H'm!... I should know what to do...."

And the old man could not answer what he would do with the treasure
if he found it. That question had presented itself to him that morning
probably for the first time in his life, and judging from the expression
of his face, indifferent and uncritical, it did not seem to him
important and deserving of consideration. In Sanka's brain another
puzzled question was stirring: why was it only old men searched for
hidden treasure, and what was the use of earthly happiness to people who
might die any day of old age? But Sanka could not put this perplexity
into words, and the old man could scarcely have found an answer