long thin figure, at his thin face with its enormous nose and at his laughing round eyes.
"O!" said he, "with such a neighbor there will be no sadness, if God only restore my uncle's health."
"It is good to have a joyful neighbor, because with a jolly fellow there will be no quarrel," answered Zych. "Now listen to what I tell you. You have been away from home a long time, and you will not find much comfort in Bogdaniec. I do not say in the farming, because the abbot has taken care of that; he dug up a large piece of the forest and settled new peasants. But as he went there very often, you will find the larder empty; even in the house, there is hardly a bench or a bunch of straw to sleep on; and a sick man needs some comforts. You had better come with me to Zgorzelice. I will be glad to have you stay a month or two. During that time, Jagienka will take care of Bogdaniec. Rely on her and do not bother yourselves with anything. Zbyszko can go there, from time to time, to inspect the farming; I will bring the abbot to Zgorzelice, and you can settle your account with him. The girl will take good care of you, as of a father, and during illness, a woman's care is the best. Well, my dear friends, will you do as I ask you?"
"We know that you are a good man and you always were," answered Macko with emotion; "but don't you see, if I must die on account of this wound, I prefer to die in my own home. Then when one is home, although he is old, he can inquire about different things, can inspect and do many other things. If God order me to go to the other world, well, then I cannot help it! I cannot escape it even with better care. As for inconvenience, we are accustomed to that at the war. Even a bunch of straw is pleasant to that one who, during several years, has slept on the bare ground. But I thank you for your kind heart and if I be not able to show you my gratitude, God will permit Zbyszko to do it."
Zych of Zgorzelice, who was noted for his kind heart and readiness to oblige, began to insist: but Macko was firm: "If I must die, it will be better to die in my own courtyard!"
He had longed to see Bogdaniec for several years, therefore now, when he was so near it, he must go there, even if it were his last night. God was merciful, having permitted him who was so ill, to reach here.
He brushed away the tears gathered under his eyelids, with his hand, looked around and said:
"If these are the woods of Wilk of Bizozowa we will be home this afternoon."
"They do not belong to Wilk of Bizozowa any longer; but to the abbot," said Zych.
Macko smiled and said after awhile:
"If they belong to the abbot, then sometime, they may belong to us."
"Bah! awhile ago you were talking about death," said Zych joyfully, "and now you wish to outlive the abbot."
"No, I will not outlive him; but Zbyszko may."
Further conversation was interrupted by the sound of horns in the forest.
Zych stopped his horse and began to listen.
"Somebody is hunting," said he. "Wait."
"Perhaps it is the abbot. It would be pleasant to meet him here."
"Keep quiet!"
Here he turned to his retinue.
"Stop!"
They halted. The horns resounded nearer, and soon afterward the baying of dogs was heard.
"Stop!" repeated Zych. "They are coming toward us."
Zbyszko jumped from his horse and began to shout:
"Give me the crossbow! The beast may attack us! Hasten! Hasten!"
Having seized the crossbow from the servant's hands, he rested it against the ground, pressed it against his abdomen, bent, stretched his back like a bow, and having seized the string with the fingers of both hands, he pulled it on to the iron hook; then placed an arrow and sprang into the woods.
"He stretched it without a crank!" whispered Zych, astonished at such great strength.
"Ho, he is a strong boy!" answered Macko, proudly.
Meanwhile, the sound of horns and the barking of dogs stole nearer; all at once, at the right side of the forest, a heavy trampling resounded, accompanied by the crackling of broken branches and bushes – then out of the thicket rushed an old bearded urus, with his gigantic head lowered, with bloody eyes and panting tongue, breathless and terrible. Coming to a small ravine, he leaped it, but fell on his forelegs; but immediately he arose, and a few seconds later he would have disappeared in the thicket on the other side of the road, when the string of the crossbow twanged, the whistling of the arrow resounded, the beast reared, turned, roared dreadfully and fell on the ground as if he were struck by a thunderbolt.
Zbyszko leaped from behind a tree, again stretched the crossbow, and approached the bull who was pawing the ground with his hind feet.
But having glanced at it, he turned quietly toward the retinue, and began to shout from afar:
"I hit him so hard that he is severely wounded!"
"You are a strong boy!" said Zych, riding toward him, "with one arrow only!"
"Bah, it was near, and the speed was great. Come and see; not only the iron, but even the shaft has disappeared under the left shoulder bone."
"The huntsmen must be near; they will claim the beast."
"I will not give it to them!" answered Zbyszko. "It was killed on the road, and the road is not private property."
"But if it belong to the abbot?"
"Well, then he may have it."
Meanwhile, several dogs came out of the forest. Having perceived the animal, they rushed on him.
"Soon the huntsmen will appear," said Zych. "Look! There they are, but they do not see the beast yet. Stop! Stop! Here, here! Killed! Killed!"
Then he became silent, and sheltered his eyes with one hand; after a while, he said:
"For God's sake! what has happened? Have I become blind, or does it only seem so to me?"
"There is some one on a piebald horse in the front," said Zbyszko.
Then Zych exclaimed at once:
"Dear Jesus! It must be Jagienka!"
And he began to shout:
"Jagna! Jagna!"
Then he rushed forward; but before he could make his horse gallop, Zbyszko perceived a most wonderful spectacle; he beheld a girl sitting like a man, on a swift piebald horse, rushing toward them; she had a crossbow in one hand and a boar-spear on her shoulders. Her floating hair was full of hop strobiles; her face was bright like the dawn. Her shirt was opened on the bosom, and she wore a serdak.[70] Having reached them, she reined in her horse; for a while, her face expressed surprise, hesitation, joy; finally, being scarcely able to believe her own eyes, she began to cry in a childish voice:
"Tatulo,[71] tatus[71] dearest!"
In the twinkling of an eye, she jumped from her horse, and Zych dismounted also to welcome her; she threw her arms around his neck. Fora long time, Zbyszko heard only the sounds of kisses and these two words: "Tatulo! Jagula! Tatulo! Jagula!" repeated in a joyful outburst.
