COLT 211, 19S The Politics of Burial W1D2, Optional Prompt for Reading Response #1 Instructions: 1. Read the prompt below. 2. Set aside about two hours to read Tolstoy's short story "Strider." 3. As you read, mark passages that relate to politics, privilege, differences betwern humans and animals, and burial. 4. Then respond to the prompt below. Spend up to one hour on your first reading response. Response Prompt: Who gets buried in Tolstoy's short story "Strider"? Who does not get buried, and why? How does the right to be buried relate to property rights? Finally, whose life (and whose corpse) had more value: Strider's or Serpukhovskoy's? Explain and discuss. OXFORD WORLD'S CLASSICS For over 100 years Oxford World's Classics have brought readers closer to the world's great literature. Now with over 700 tfrles-fi'om the 4,000-year-old myths ofMesopotarnia to the t1ventieth centuiy's greatest novels-the series inakes available lesser-lenown as well as celebrated writing. The pocket-sized hardbacks ofthe early years contained inLroductions by Virginia 'f!Voolf T. S. Eliot, Graham Greene, and other litera1J1 figures which enriched the experience ofreading. Today the series is recognized for its fine scholarship and reliability in te:i:ts that span world literature, drama and poetry, religion, philosophy and politics. Each edition includes perceptive cornmentary and essential background information to nieet the changing needs ofreaders. OXFORD WORLD'S CLASSICS LEO TOLSTOY The!Devil and Other Stories Translated by LOUISE AND AYLMER.MAUDE Revised, with an Introduction and Notes, by RICHARD F. GUSTAFSON OXFORD UNIVERSITY PR:?SS 0f,µ 7-llD? 124 Polikushka 'What are you stopping for? Go on 1 devils! cannibals!' he cried. 'You \rvonit escape me! DeviPs clodhoppers!1 At these words his voice broke, and he fell full length to the ground just where he stood. Soon the Dntlovs reached the open fields, and looking back could no longer see the cro\vd of recruits. Having gone some four miles at a walking· pace lgnat got down from his father's cart, in which the old man lay asleep, and walked beside Ilyushka's cart. Between them they emptied the bottle they had brought from tol~'n. After a while Ilya began. a song, the women joined in, and Ignat shouted 1nerrily in time with the song. A post-chaise drove merrily towards them. The driver called lustily to his horses as he passed the two festive carts, and the post-boy ·turned round and 1vinked at the red faces of the peasant men and women _who sat being jolted around while singing their jovial song. . STRIDER: THE STORY OF A HORSE I Higher and higher rose the sky, wider spread the dawn, whiter grew the pallid silver of the dew, more lifeless the sickle of the moon, more sonorous the forest, while pe_ople began to arise, and in the ·owner's stable-yard the sounds of snorting, the rustling of litter, and even the shrill angry neighing of horses crowded together and squabbling about something, grew more and more frequent. 'Hold on! Plenty of time! Hungry?' said the old herdsman, quickly opening the creaking gate, 'Where are you going?' he shouted, threateningly raising his arm at a· 1nare that was pushing through the gate. The herdsman, Nester, wore a short Cossack coat with an orna­ mental leather belt, had a whip slung over his shoulder, and a hunk of bread wrapped in a cloth stuck in his belt. He carried a saddle and bridle in his arms. The horses were not at all frightened or offended at the herds­ man's sarcastic tone: they pretended that.it was all the same to them and moved leisurely away from the gate; only one old brown mare, with a thick mane, laid back an ear and quickly turned her back on him. Asmall filly standing behind her and not at all concerned in the matter took this opportunity to whinny and kick out at a horse that happened to be near. 'Now then!' shouted the herdsman still louder and more sternly, and he went to the opposite corner of the yard. Of all the horses in the enclosure (there were about a hundred of them) a piebald gelding, standing by himself in a corner under the overhang and licking an oak post with half-closed eyes, displayed the least impatience. It is impossible to say what flavour the piebald gelding found in the post, but his expression \Vas serious and thoughtful while he licked. 'Stop that!' shouted the herdsman again in that same tone, draw­ ing nearer to him and putting the saddle and a glossy saddle-doth on the manure heap beside him. Strider: The Sto1J1 ofa Horse Strider: The Story ofa Horse The piebald gelding stopped licking, and without moving gave Nester a long look. The gelding did not laugh, nor grow angry, nor frown, but his whole belly heaved with a profound sigh and he turned avvay. The hcrds1nan put his arm round the gelding's neck and placed the bridle on him. 'What are you sighing for?' _said Nester. The gelding switched his tail as if to say, 'Nothing in particular, Nester!' Nester put the saddle-cloth and saddle on him, and this caused the gelding to lay back his ears, probably to express dissatis­ faction, but he was only called a 'good-for-nothing' for it and his saddle-girths were tightened. At this the gelding snorted, but a fin­ ger vvas thrust into his mouth and a knee hit him in the sto1nach, so that he had to let out his breath. In spite of this, when the saddle­ cloth was being buckled on he again laid back his ears and even looked round. Though he knew it would do no good he considered it necessary to show that it Viras disagreeable to him and _that he would always express his dissatisfaction with it. When he was saddled he thrust forward his swollen right foot and began champing his bit, this too for some reason of his OVi'.n, for he ought to have known by that time that a bit cannot have any flavour at all. Nester inounted the gelding by the short stirrup, unwoup_d his long· vvhip, straightened -his coat out from under his knee, seated hin1self in the manner peculiar to coachmen, huntsmen, and herds­ men, and jerked the reins. The gelding lifted his head to show his readiness to go where ordered, but did not move. He knew that before starting there would be 1nuch shouting, and that Nester, from the seat on his back, would give many orders to Vaska, the other herdsn1an, and to the horses. And Nester did shout: 'Vaska! Hey, Vaska. Have you let out the brood mares? Where are you going, you devil? Now then! Are you asleep? Open the gate! Let the brood mares get out first!' -and so on. The gate creaked. Vaska, cross and sleepy, stood at the gatecpost holding his horse by the bridle and letting the other horses pass out. The horses followed one another and. stepped carefully .over the strav1\ smelling at it: fillies, yearling colts with their manes and tails cut 1 suckling foals, and mares in foal carrying their burden heedfully, passed one by one through the gateway. The fillies sometimes crovi ded together in twos and threes, throwing their heads across one another's backs and hitting their hoofs against· the gate, for which they received a rebuke from the herdsman every time. The foals sometimes darted under the legs of the wrong mares and neighed loudly in response to the short whinny of their own mothers. A playful filly, as soon as she had got out at the gate, bent her head sideways, kicked up her hind legs, and squealed, but all tbe same she did not dare to run ahead of old dappled Zhuldyba who at a slow and heavy pace, swinging her belly from side to side, marched as usual ahead of all the other horses. In a few minutes tbe enclosure that had been so animated became deserted, the posts stood gloomily under the empty overhang, and only trampled straw mixed with manure was to be seen. Used as he was to that desolate sight it probably depressed the piebald gelding. As if making a bow he slowly lowered his head and raised it again, sighed as deeply as the tightly drawn girth would allow, and hobbling along on his stiff and crooked legs shambled after the herd, bearing old Nester on his bony back. 'I know that as soon as we get out on the road he will begin to strike a light and smoke his wooden pipe with its brass mountings and little chain,' thought the gelding. 'I am glad of it because early in the morning when it is dewy I like tlrnt smell, it reminds me of much that was pleasant; but it's annoying that when his pipe is between his teeth the old man always begins to swagger and thinks himself somebody and sits ·sideways, always sideways, and that side hurts. However, it can't be helped! Suffering for the pleasure of others is nothing new to 1ne. I have even begun to find a certain horse pleasure in it. Let him swagger, poor fellow! Of course he can only do that when he is alone and no one sees him, let him sit sideways!' thought the gelding, and stepping carefully on his crooked legs he went along the middle of the road. 1 127 II Having driven the h-orsCs to the riverside where they were to graze, Nester dismo_unted and unsaddled. Meanwhile the herd had begun gradually to spread over the untrampled 1neadow, covered with dew and by the mist that rose from it and the encircling river. When he had taken the bridle off the piebald gelding, Nester scratched him under the neck, in .response to which the gelding rz8 Strider: The Story ofa Horse Strider: The Story ofa Horse expressed his gratitude and satisfaction by closing his eyes. 'He likes it, the old dog!' 111uttered Nester. The gelding however did not really care for the scratching at all, and pretended that it was agreeable n1ereiy out of-courtesy. He nodded his head in assent to Nester's words; but suddenly Nester quite unexpectedly and without any reason, perhaps imagining that too much familiarity might give the gelding a wrong idea of_his importance, pushed the gelding's head a\vay from hirnself \Vithout any warning and, s\.vinging the bridle, struck him painfully with the buckle on his lean leg, and then with­ out saying a vvord Vl'ent ·up the hillock to a tree-stump beside which he generally seated himself. . Though this action grieved the piebald gelding he gave no indica­ tion of it, but leisurely switching his scanty tail, sniffed at something and 1 biting off some wisps of grass merely to divert his mind, walked to the river. He took no Ilotice whatever of the antics of the young mares, colts, and foals around him, who were filled with the joy of t:he morning; and knowing that, especially at his age, it is healtl1ier to have a good drink on an empty stomach and to eat afterwards, he chose a spot where the bank was widest and least steep, and wetting his hoofs and fetlocks, dipped his.1nuzzle in the water and began to suck it up through his torn lips, to expand his sides as he filled up, and from pleasure to switch his scanty tail with its half bald stump. An aggressive chestnut filly, who always teased the old fellow and did all kinds of unpleasant things to hiin, now came up to him in the 'Nater as if attending to some business of her own, but in reality merely to foul the water before his nose. But the piebald gelding, who had already had his fill, as though not noticing the filly's inten­ tion quietly drew one foot after the other out of the mud in which they had sunk, jerked his head, and stepping aside from the youthful crovvd started grazing. Sprawling his feet apart in different ways and not trampling the grass needlessly, he went on eating 'vithout straightening himself up for exactly three hours. Having eaten till his belly hung down from his steep skinny ribs like a sack, he balanced himself equally on his four sore legs so as to have as little pain as possible, especially in his right foreleg which was the weakest, and fell asleep. Old age is sometimes majestic, sometimes ugly, and sometimes pathetic. But old age can be both ugly and majestic together, and the gelding's old age was just of tl1at kind. He was tall, rather over fifteen hands high. His spots were black 1 or rather they had been black, but had now turned a dirty brown. He had three spots, one on his head, starting from a crooked bald patch on the side of his nose and reaching halfway down his neck. His long mane, filled with burrs, was white in some places and brownish in others. Another spot extended dmvn his right side to the middle of his belly, the third, on his croup, touched part of his tail and went halfway down his quarters. The rest of· the tail was whitish and speckled. The big bony head, with d!"ep hollows over the eyes and a black sagging lip that had been torn at some time, hung low and heavily on his neck, which· was so lean that it looked as though it were carved of wood. The sagging lip revealed a blackish, biti:en tongue and the yellow stumps of the-worn lower teeth. The ears 1 one of.which was slit, hung low on either side, and only occasionally moved lazily to drive away the pestering flies. One tuft of the fore­ lock, still long, hung back behind an ear, the uncovered forehead was dented and rough, and the skin hnng doW11 like bags on his broad jawbones. The veins of his neck had grown knoti:y and twitched and shuddered at every touch of a fly. The expression of his face was one of stern patience, thoµghtfulness, and suffering. His forelegs were bent like a bow at the knees, there were swellings over both hoofs, and on one leg, on which the piebald spot reached halfway down, there was a swelling at tl1e knee as big as a fist. The hind legs were in better condition, but apparently long ago his haunGhes had been so rubbed that in places the hair would not grow again. ·The leanness of his body made all four legs look dis­ proportionately long. The ribs, though straight, were so exposed and close together that it seemed the skin had adhered to the spaces between. His back and ·withers were covered with marks of old lash­ ings, and there was a fresh sore behind, still swollen artd festering; the black dock of his tail, which showed the vertebrae, hung down long and almost bare. Near the tail on his dark-brown croup there was a scar, as though of a bite, the size of a man's hand and covered with vvhite hair. Another scarred sore 'vas vfsible on one of his shoulders. His tail and hocks were dirty because of chronic bowel troubles. The hair on the whole body, thongh short, stood out straight. Yet in spite of the hideous old age of this horse one .involun­ tarily paused to reflect when one saw him, and an expert would have said at once that he had been a remarkably fine horse in his day. 129 Strider: The Story ofa Horse Strider: The Story ofa Horse The expert would even have said that there was only one breed in Russia that could furnish such breadth of bone, such immense knees, such hoofs, such slender cannons, such a well-shaped neck, and above all such a skull, such eyes-large, black, and clear-and such a thoroughbred network of veins on head and neck, and such delicate skin and hair. There was really something majestic in that horse's figure and in the terrible union in hiin of repulsive signs of decrepi­ tude, emphasized by the motley colour of his hair, and his manner vvhich expressed the self-confidence and calm assurance that go vvith beauty and strength. Like a living ruin he stood alone in the midst of the dewy 1neadow, vvhile not far from him could be heard the tramping, snorting and youthful neighing and whinnying of the scattered herd. forehead and eyes, played with the grass, nipping off a little and tossing it and stamping her leg with its shaggy fetlock all wet with dew. One of the older foals, probably imagining he was playing some kind of game, with his curly tail raised like a plume, ran for the twenty-sixth time round his mother, who quietly went on grazing, having grown accustomed to her son's ways, and only occasionally glanced askance at him with one of her large black eyes. One of the very youngest foals, black, with a big head, a tuft sticking up in astonishment between his· ears, and a little tail still twisted to one side as it had been in his mother's won1b, stood motionless, his ears ·pricked and his dull eyes fixed, gazing at the frisking and prancing foal,. whether admiring or condemning him it is unclear. Some of the foals were sucking .and butting with their noses, some-it is unclear why-despite their mothers' call were running at an awkward little trot in quite the opposite direction as if searching for something, and then, for no apparent reason, stopping and neighing with desperate shrillness. Some lay on their sides·in a row, some vv:ere learning to eat grass, some again \Vere scratchiµg themselves behind their ears with their hind legs. Two mares still in foal were walking apart from the rest, and while slowly movii1g their legs continued to graze. The others evidently respected their condition, and nop_e of the young ones ventured to come near to disturb them. If any saucy youngsters thought of approac~ing them, the mere movement of an ear or tail sufficed to show them all how improper such behaviour was. The colts and yearling fillies, pretending to be grown up and sedate, rarely jumped or joined the merry company. They grazed in a dignified manner, curving their close-cropped swanlike necks, and flourished their little broom-like tails as if they also had long ones. Just like the grown-ups they lay down, rolled over, or rubbed one another. The merriest group was composed of the two- and three­ year-old fillies and mares not yet in foal. They walked about almost all together in a separate merry girlish crowd. Among them you could hear sounds of tramping, whinnying, neighing, and snorting. They drew close together, put their heads over one another's necks, sniffed at one another, jumped, and sometimes at a semi-trot semi­ amble, with tails lifted like an oriflamme, raced proudly and coquet­ tishly past their companions, The most beautiful and spirited of them was the mischievous chestnut filly. What she devised the others did; wherever she went the whole crowd of beauties followed. That 130 HI The sun had risen above the forest and now shone brightly on the gTass and the winding river. The dew was drying up and condensing into drops, the last of the morning mist was dispersing like tiny sn1oke-clouds. The cloudlets were becoming curly but there was as yet no 'vind. Beyond the river the green rye stood bristling, its ears curling into little horns, and ·there was an odour of fresh greenery and flowers. A cuckoo called rather hoarsely from the forest, and Nester, lying on his back in the grass, was counting the calls to ascertain how many years he still had to live. The larks were rising over the rye and the meadow. A belated hare, finding himself among the horses, leaped into the open, sat down by a bush, and pricked his ears to listen. Vaska fell asleep with his head in the grass, the fillies, n1aking a still \Vider circle about him, scattered over the field below. 'I'he old inares went about snorting, and made a shining track across the de1,;yy grass, always choosing a place where no one would disturb them. They no longer grazed, but only nibbled at choice tufts of grass. 1"he whole herd was moving imperceptibly in one direction. And again it was old Zhuldyba who, stepping sedately in front of the others, showed the possibility of going further; BlackMushka, a young mare who had foaled for the first time, with uplifted tail kept whinnying and snorting at her bluish foal; the young filly Satin, sleek and brilliant, bending her head till her black silky forelock hid her IJI Strider: The Story ofa Horse Strida: The Story of a Hom 1norning the naughty one was in a specially playful mood. She was that he forgot his duty, what would have happened had he seen the naughty beauty as she stood pricking her ears, breathing in the air with dilated nostrils, ready to run, ITembling with her whole beautiful body, and calling to him? But the mischievous one did not brood long over her impressions. When the neighing of the roan died away she gave another scornful neigh, lowered her head and began pawing the ground, and then she went to wake and to tease the piebald gelding. The piebald gelding was the cOnstant martyr at1d butt of those happy youngsters. He suffered more from them than at the hands of men. He did no harm to either. People needed him, but why should these young horses torment him? 132 seized vvith a joyous fit, just as human beings sometimes are. Already at the riverside she had played a trick on the old gelding, and after that she ran along through the water pretending to be frightened by something, gave a hoarse squeal, and raced full speed into the field so that Vaska had to gallop after her and the others who followed her. Then after grazing a little she began rolling, then teasing the old mares by dashing in front of t4em, then she drove a\vay a small foal fron1 its da1n and chased it as if meaning to bite it. Its mother was frightened and stopped grazing, while the little foal cried in a piteous tone, but the mischievous one did not touch him at all, she only vvanted to frighten him and give a performance for the benefit of her con1panions, Vi.'ho watched her escapade approvingly. Then she set out to turn the head of a little roan horse with which a peasat1t was ploughing in a rye-field far beyond the river. She stopped, proudly lifted her head somewhat to one side, shook herself, and neighed in a S\~reet 1 tender, long-~rawn voice. Mischief, and feeling, and a certain sadness were expressed in that call. In it there was both the desire for and the pro1nise of love, and a pining for it. There in the thick reeds .is a corncrake running backwards and forvvards and calling passionately to his mate; over there both the cuckoo and the quails are singing of love, and the flowers are sending their fragrant dust to each other by the wind. 'And I too am young and beautiful and strong,' the mischievous one's voice said, 'but it has not yet been allowed me to experience the svveetness of that feelirig, and not only to experience it, but no lover, not a single one, has ever seen me!' And this neighing, sad and youtl1ful and fraught with feeling, was borne over the lowland and the field to the roat1 horse far away. He pricked up his ears and stopped. The peasant kicked him with his bast shoe, but the little horse was so enchanted by the silvery sound of the distant neighing that he neighed too. The peasant grew angry, pulled at the reins, and kicked the little roan so painfully in the stomach with his bast shoes that he could not finish his neigh and vvalked on. But the little roan felt a sense of sweetness and sadness, and for a long time the sounds of unfinished and passionate neigh­ ing, and of the peasant's angry voice, were carried from the distant rye-field over to the herd.. If the sound of her Voice alone so overpo':'rered the little roan 133 IV He was old, they were young; he was lean, they were sleek; he was miserable, they were gay; and so he was quite alien to them, an outsider, an utterly differe,nt creature whom it was impossible for them to pity. Horses only have pity for themselves, and very occasionally for those in whose skins they can easily imagine then1­ selves to be. But was it the old gelding's fault that he was old, poor, and ngly? One might think not, but in horse et11ics it was, and only those were right who wer('. strong, young, and happy, those \Vho had life still before them, whose every muscle quivered with superfluous energy, and whose tails stood erect. Maybe the piebald gelding him­ - self understood this and in his quiet moments was ready to agree that it was Iris fault that he had already lived his life, and that he had to pay for that life; but after all he was a horse and often could not suppress a sense of resentment, sadness, and indignation, when he looked at those youngsters who tormented him for what would befall them all at the end of their lives. Another cause of the horses' lack of piiy was their aristocratic pride. Every one of them traced back its ·pedigree, through father or mother, to the famous Creamy, while the piebald was of unknown parentage. He was an alien resident, pur­ chased three years b_efore at a fair for eighty assignation roubles.* The chestnut filly, as if taking a stroll, passed close by the piebald gelding's nose and pushed hi1n. He knew at once what it was, and without opening his eyes laid back his ears and showed "his teeth. Strider: The Story ofa Horse Strider: The Story ofa Horse The filly wheeled round as if to kick him. The gelding opened his eyes and stepped aside. He did not want to sleep any more and began Lo graze. The mischief-maker, follo\ved by her companions, again approached the gelding. A very stupid two-year-old white-spotted filly who always imitated the chestnut in everything, went up with herd, or because the gelding with his high saddle and without a rider presented a strangely fantastic spectacle to the horses, at any rate something quite unusual occurred that night in the paddock All the horses, young and old) ran after the gelding, shov;ring their teeth and driving him all round the yard; one heard the sound of hoofs striking against his bare ribs, and his deep groaning. He could no longer endure this, nor could he avoid the blows. He stopped in the middle of the paddock, his face expressing first the repulsive weak malevo­ lence of helpless old age, and then despair: he dropped his ears, and then something happened that caused all the horses to quiet down. The oldest of the mares, Vyazapurikha, went up to the gelding, sniffed at him and sighed. The gelding sighed too ... 134 her and, as imitators always do, went to greater lengths than the instigator. The chestnut always went up as if intent on. business of her own, and passed by the gelding's nose without looking at him, so that he really did not know whether to be angry or not, and that was really funny. She did the same now, but the white-spotted one, who followed her and had grown particularly lively, bumped right against the gelding with her chest. He again showed his teeth, whinnied, and with an agility one could not have expected _of him, rushed after her and bit her flank. The white-spotted one kicked out with all her strength and dealt the old horse a heavy blow on his thin bare ribs. He snorte4 heavily and was going to rush at her again, but bethought himself and drawing a deep sigh stepped aside. The whole crowd of young ones 1nust have_ taken as a personal affront the impertinence the piebald gelding had permitted himself to offer to the white­ spotted one, and for the rest of the day did not let him graze in peace for a moment, so that the herdsman had to quieten them several times and could not understand what had come over them. _The gelding felt so offended that he went up himself to Nester when the old man was getting ready to drive the horses home,.and felt happier and quieter when he was saddled and the old man had mounted him. God knows what the gelding was thinking as he carried old Nester on his back: whether he thought bitterly of the pertinacious and n1erciless yOungsters, or forgave his tormenters 'vith the contemptu­ ous and silent pride. suited to old age. At all events he did not bettay his thoughts till he reached home. 1"hat evening, as Nester drove the horses past the huts of the domestic serfs, he noticed a peasant horse and cart tethered to his porch: so1ne friends had come to see him. When driving the horses in he was in such a hurry that he let the gelding in without unsad­ dling him and, shouting to Vaska to do it, shut the gate and went to his friends. Whether because of the affront to the white-spotted filly-Creamy's great-granddaughter-by that 'mangy trash' bought at the horse fair, \Yho did not know his father or mother, and the consequent outrage to the- ari_stocratic sentiment of the whole 1 35 v In the middle of the moonlit paddock stood the tall gaunt figure of the gelding, still v;rearing the high saddle with its prominent peak at the bow. The horses stood motionless and in deep silence around him as if they Were learning something new and unexpected from him. And they did learn something new and nnexpected from him. This is what they learnt from hin1. First Night 'Yes, I am the son of Affable .I and of Baba. My pedigree name is Muzhik I. I am Muzhik I by pedegree and I was nicknamed StTider by the crowd because of my long and sweeping strides, the like of which -was ~owhere to be found. in all Russia. There i.s no more thoroughbred horse in the world. I should never have told you this. What good would it have done? You would never have recognized me:- even Vyazapurikha, who was with me in I.vords, vi'hich indicate that men are guided in life not by deeds but by \~'ords. They like not so inuch the ability to do or not do something, as the ability to speak of various objects in conventionally agreed upon 1ivords. Such \Vords, considered very important among them, are 1ny and niine, which·they apply to various things, creatures, or objects: even to land, people, and horses. They have agreed that of any given thing only one person 1nay use the word mine, and he \Vho in this game of theirs may use that conventional- \vord about the greatest nu1nber Of things is considered the happiest. Why this is so I · do not know, but it is so. For a long time I tried to explain it by some direct advantage they derive from it, but this proved wrong. '};'or instance many of those who called me their horse did not ride 111e 1 quite other people rode me; nor did they feed me, quite -other people did that. Again it was not those who called me their horse who treated me kindly, but coachmen, veterinaries, and in general quite other people. Later on, having widened my field of. observation,. I beca1ne convinced that not only as applied to us horses, but in regard to other things, the idea of 1nine ·has no other foundation than a base, animal instinct in men, which they call. the feeling or right of prop­ erty. }\ man says "my house" and never lives in it, but only concerns himself with its building and maintenance. A merchant talks of "my cloth store", but has none of his clothes made of the best cloth that is in his store. There are people who call land theirs, though they have never seen that land and never walked on it. There are people who call other people theirs, but have never seen those others, and the i.vhole relationship of the owners to the owned is that they do them har1n. There are men who call wome·n their wo1ne1). or their wives; yet these vvo1nen live with other men. And men strive in life not to do what they think right, but to call as many things as possible their own. I a1n novv convinced that in this lie~ the essential difference between n1en and us. Therefore, not to speak of other things in which we are superior to men, on this ground alone \Ve may boldly say that in the scale of livi11g creatures we stand higher than man. The activity of men, at any rate of those I have had to do with, is guided by worgs, ·while ours is guided by deeds. It was this right to speak of me as niy horse that the stud groom had obtained, and that was why he had the groom flogged. This discovery much astonished me and, together with the thoughts and opinions aroused in men by my piebald colour, and the pensiveness produced in me by my mother's betrayal, caused me to becon1e the serious and deep-thinking gelding that I am. 'I was thrice unfortunate: I was piebald, I was a gelding1 and people considered that I did not belong to God and to myself, as is natural to all living creatures, butthat I belonged to the stud groom. 'Their ·thinking this about me had many consequences. The first was that I was kept apart from the other horses, better fed, taken out on the line more often, and broken in at an earlier-age. I was first harnessed in my third year. I remember how the stud groom, \vho imagined I was his, himself began to harness me with a crowd of other groo1ns, expecting me to prove unruly or to resist. They put ropes round me to lead me into the shafts; put a cross of broad straps on my back and fastened it to the shafts so that I could not kick, while I was only awaiting an opportunity to show my readiness and love of work. 'They were surprised that I started out like an old horse. They began to break me in but I began to practise trotting. Every day I made greater and greater progress, so that after three inonths the general himself and many others approved of my pace. But strange to say, just because they considered me not as their own, but as belonging to the head groom, they regarded my paces quite differently. 'The stallions who .were my brothers were raced, their records were kept, people went to look at them, drove them in gilt sulkies, and expensive horse-cloths were thrown over them. I was driven in a coiiunon sulky to Chesmenka and other farms on the head groom's business. All this was the result of my being piebald, and especially of ~y being in their opinion not the count's, but the head groom's property. 'To1norrow, if Vi'e are alive, I Vi'ill tell you the chief consequence for me of this right of property the head groom considered himself to have.' All that day the horses treated Sttider respectfully, but Nester's treatment of him was as rough as ever. The peasant's little roan horse neighed again ori coming up to the herd, and the chestnut filly again coquettishly replied to him. 1 43 144 Strider: The Story ofa Horse VII Third Night The ne\V moon- had risen and its narrow crescent lit up Strider's figure as he once again stood in the middle of the stable-yard. The other horses cro,yded round him. 'For n1e the most surprising consequence of my not being the count's, nor God's, but the stud groom's, Y11as that the very thing-that constitutes our chief 1nerit, a fast pace, was the cause of my banish­ tnent. They were driving Swan round the track, and the stud groo1n, returning. fro1n Chesmenka, drove me up and stopped there. s,van \Vent past. He went well, but all the srune he was showing off a~d h_ad not the .exactitude I had developed in myself, so that no sooner did one foot touch the ground than another instantaneously lifted and not the slightest effort was lost but every _bit of exertion carried me forward. Swan went by us. I pulled towards the ring and the stnd groom did not check me. "Here, shall I try my piebald?" he shouted, and vvhen next Swan came abreast of us he let me go. Swafl was already going fast, and so I was left behind during the first ·round, but in the second I began to gain on him, drew near to his sulky, drevv level, and passed hiin. They tried us again-it was the same thing. I was the faster. And this dismayed everybody. The general asked that I should be sold at once to some distant place, so that nothing more should be heard of 1ne: "Or else the count will get to !:now of it and there will be trnuble!" So they sold me to a horse­ dealer as a shaft-horse. I did not remain with him long. A hussar who can1e to buy remounts bought me. All this was so unfair, so cruel, . that I vvas glad when they took 1ne away from IChrenovo and parted n1e for everJrom all that had been familiar and dear to me. It was too painful for ine among them. They h~d_love, honour, freedom,. before the1n; I had labour, humiliation; humiliation, labour, to the end of my life. And why? Because I was piebald, and because of that had to beconi.e somebody's horse.' . Strider could not continue that evening. An event occurred in the enclosure that upset all the horses. Kupchikha, a mare big with foal, vvho had stood listening to the story, suddenly turned away and walked slowly into the shed, and there began to groan so that it drew the attention of all the horses. Then she lay down, then got up again, · Strider: The Story ofa Horse r45 and again lay down. The old mares understood what was happening to her, but the young ones became excited and 1 leaving the gelding, surrounded the invalid. Towards morning there was a ne\v foal standing unsteadily on its little legs. Nester shouted to the groom, and the mare and foal were taken into a stall and the other horses driven to the pasture without them. VIII Fourth Night In the evening when the gate was closed and all had quieted down, the piebald continued: . 'I have had opportunity to make 1nan:Y observations both of men and horses during the time I passed from hand to hand. I stayed longest of all with two masters, with a prince _who was a hussar officer and later with an old lady who lived near the church of St Nicholas the Wonder Worker. 'The happiest years of my life I spent with the hussar officer. 'Though he was the cause of my ruin, and though he never loved anything or anyone, I loved and still love him for that very reason. What I liked about him was that he was handsome, happy, rich, and therefore never loved anybody. You understand .that lofty horse feeling of ours. His coldness, his cruelty, and my dependence on him gave special strength to my love for him. Kill me, drive me till my wind is broken! I used to think in our good days, and I shall be all the happier. 'He bought me from an agent to whom the stnd groom had sold me for eight hundred roubles and he did so just because no one else had piebald horses. That was my best time. He had·• mistress. I knew this because I took him to her every day and sometllnes took them both out. His inistress was a handsome woman, and he was handsome, and his coachman was handsome, and I loved them all because they Were. Life was worth livll1g then. This was hovv my time was spent: ~n the morning the groom came to .rub me down, not the c~achman himself but the groom. The groom was a lad from among the peasants. He would open the door, let out the steam from the horses, toss out the manure, take off our rugs, and begin to fidget over our bodies with a brush and lay whitish streaks of dandruff 1 Strider: The Sto1JI ofa Horse frorn a curry-con1b on the boards of the floor that was dented by our rough horseshoes. I would playfully nip his sleeve and paw the ground. Then we were led out one after another to the trough filled V11ith cold vvater, and the lad would admire the s1noothness of my spotted coat which he had polished, my foot with its broad hoof, my legs straight as an arrow, my glossy quarters, and my back v-.r:ide enough to sleep on. Hay was piled onto the high racks, and the oak cribs vvere filled with Oats. Then Feofan, the head coachman, would con1e in. 'The master and the coachman resembled .one another. Neither of then1 vvas afraid of anything or cared for anyone but himself, and for that reason everybody liked them. Feofan wore a red shirt, black velveteen knickerbockers, aild a sleeveless coat. I liked it on a holiday vvhen he vvould- come into the stable, his hair pomaded, and wearing his sleeveless coat, and would shout,_ "Now then, beastie, have you forgotten?" and push me with the handle of the stable fork, never so as to hurt ine but just _as a joke. I imn1ediately kne\v that it was a joke, and laid back an ear, making my teeth click. 'We had a black stallion, who drove in a pair. At night they used to put n1e in hri.rness with hi111. This Poll~:an, as he was called, did not understand a joke but \Vas si1nply vicious as the devil. I ·was in the stall next to his and son1etimes we bit one another seriously. Feofan 1~1 as not afraid of him. He would come up·-and give a shout, it looked as if Polkan would kill him, but no, he'd miss, and Feofan would put the harness on him. Once he and I bolted down Smiths Bridge Street. J\.Jeither the master nor tl1e coachman was frightened; they laug·hed, shoute_d at the people, checked us, and turned so that no . one \Vas r,un over. 'In their service I lost my best qualities and half my life. They ruined me by v,ratering me \Vrongly, and they ruined my legs. Still for all that it vi. as the.best time of my life. At twelve o'.clock they would. con1e to harness me, black 1ny hoofs, moisten my forelock and mane, and put n1e in the shafts. 'The sledge was of plaited cane upholstered with velvet; the reins \Vere of silk, the harness had silver buckles, son1etimes there was a covet of silken fly-net, and altogether it was such that when all the traces and straps were fastened it was difficult to say where the harness ended and the horse began. We were harnessed at ease in the stable. Feofan would come, broader at his hips than at the shoulders, 1 Strider: The Story ofa Horse I47 his red belt up under his arms. I-le would examine the harness, take his seat, wrap his coat round him, put his foot into the sledge stirrup, let off some joke, and for appearance' sake always hang a Vi.rhip over his arm though he hardly ever hit ine, and would say, "Let go!' and playfully stepping from foot to foot I would move out of the gate, and the cook who had come out to empty the slops would stop on the threshold and the peasant who had brought wood into the yard would open his eyes wide. We' would come out, go a little vi.ray, and stop. Foot:Inen would come out and other coachmen, and the talk would begin. Everybody would wait, sometimes we had to stand for three hours at the entrance, moving a little way, turning Qack, and standing again: 'At last there would be a stir in the hall, old Tikhon with his paunch would rush out in his dress-coat and cry, "Drive· up!1' In those days there was not that stupid way of saying, "Forward!" as if one did not know that we moved forward and not back. Feofan would smack his lips, drive. up, and the prince would hurry out carelessly, as though there were nothing remarkable abont the sledge, or the horse, or Feofan, who bent his back and stretched out his arms so that it seemed it would be impossible for him to keep them long in that position. The prince \vould have a shake on his head and wear a fur coat with a grey beaver collar hiding his rosy, black-browed, handsome face that should never have been concealed. He would come out clattering his sabre, his spurs, and the brass backs of the heels of his overshoes, stepping over the carpet as if in a hurry and taking no notice of me or Feofan whom everybody but he looked at and admired. Feofan would smack his lips, I would tug at the reins, and respectably, at a slo\v pace, we v.rould dra'v up to.the entrance and stop. I would turn my eyes on the prince and jerk my thoroughbred head with its delicate forelock. The prince would be in good spirits and would sometimes jest with Feofan. Feofan would reply, half turning his handsome head, and wi-¢.out lowering his arms would make a scarcely perceptible movement with the reins which I under­ -stand and then one, two, three, with ever wider and wider strides, every rriuscle quivering, and sending the muddy snow against the front of the sledge, I would take off. In those days, too, there was none of the present-day stupid habit of crying, "Oh!" as if the coachman were in pain, instead of the incomprehensible, "Be off! Take care!" Feofan .would shout "Be offl Take care!" and the people 1 , Strider: The StorJ' ofa Horse Stridei-: The Story ofa Horse ivould step aside and stand craning their necks to see the handsome gelding) the handsome coachman, and the handsome gentle1nan. 'I was particularly fond of passing a trotter. When Feofan and I saw at a distance a turnout worthy of the effort, we would fly like a whirlwind and gradually gaiu on it, Now, throwing the dirt right to the back of the sledge, I would draw level with the occupant of the vehicle and snort above his head, then I would reach the horse's harness and the arch of his troika,* and then would no longer see it but only hear its sounds in the distance behind. And the prince, l=
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