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Chapter 10.
Vassenka drove the horses so smartly that they reached the marsh
too early, while it was still hot.
As they drew near this more important marsh, the chief aim of their
expedition, Levin could not help considering how he could get rid of
Vassenka and be free in his movements. Stepan Arkadyevitch evi-
dently had the same desire, and on his face Levin saw the look of
anxiety always present in a true sportsman when beginning shooting,
together with a certain good-humored slyness peculiar to him.
“How shall we go? It’s a splendid marsh, I see, and there are
hawks,” said Stepan Arkadyevitch, pointing to two great birds hover-
ing over the reeds. “Where there are hawks, there is sure to be game.”
“Now, gentlemen,” said Levin, pulling up his boots and examining
the lock of his gun with rather a gloomy expression, “do you see those
reeds?” He pointed to an oasis of blackish green in the huge half-
mown wet meadow that stretched along the right bank of the river.
“The marsh begins here, straight in front of us, do you see—where it is
greener? From here it runs to the right where the horses are; there are
breeding places there, and grouse, and all round those reeds as far as
that alder, and right up to the mill. Over there, do you see, where the
pools are? That’s the best place. There I once shot seventeen snipe.
We’ll separate with the dogs and go in different directions, and then
meet over there at the mill.”
“Well, which shall go to left and which to right?” asked Stepan
Arkadyevitch. “It’s wider to the right; you two go that way and I’ll take
the left,” he said with apparent carelessness.
“Capital! we’ll make the bigger bag! Yes, come along, come along!”
Vassenka exclaimed.
Levin could do nothing but agree, and they divided.
As soon as they entered the marsh, the two dogs began hunting
about together and made towards the green, slime-covered pool. Levin
knew Laska’s method, wary and indefinite; he knew the place too and
expected a whole covey of snipe.
“Veslovsky, beside me, walk beside me!” he said in a faint voice to
his companion splashing in the water behind him. Levin could not
help feeling an interest in the direction his gun was pointed, after that
casual shot near the Kolpensky marsh.
“Oh, I won’t get in your way, don’t trouble about me.”
But Levin could not help troubling, and recalled Kitty’s words at
parting: “Mind you don’t shoot one another.” The dogs came nearer
and nearer, passed each other, each pursuing its own scent. The expec-
tation of snipe was so intense that to Levin the squelching sound of his
own heel, as he drew it up out of the mire, seemed to be the call of a
snipe, and he clutched and pressed the lock of his gun.
“Bang! bang!” sounded almost in his ear. Vassenka had fired at a
flock of ducks which was hovering over the marsh and flying at that
moment towards the sportsmen, far out of range. Before Levin had
time to look round, there was the whir of one snipe, another, a third, and
some eight more rose one after another.
Stepan Arkadyevitch hit one at the very moment when it was
beginning its zigzag movements, and the snipe fell in a heap into the