On a sweltering summer day, I returned from hunting in a shaking cart. Looking ahead, I saw that the funeral convoy crosses our path. It was a bad omen, and the coachman began to drive the horses in order to have time to drive in front of the train. We didn’t drive a hundred steps, as our axle broke at our cart. Meanwhile, the dead man caught up with us. The coachman Erofei reported that Martyn the carpenter was buried.
In a step we got to Yudinye Settlements to buy a new axis there. There was not a soul in the settlements. Finally, I saw a man sleeping in the middle of the courtyard in the sunshine itself, and woke him up. I was struck by his appearance. It was a dwarf of about 50 with a swarthy, wrinkled face, small brown eyes and a hat of thick, curly, black hair. His body was puny, and his eyes were unusually strange. His voice was surprisingly young and feminine gentle. The coachman called him Kasyan
After much persuasion, the old man agreed to escort me to the bitch. Erofei harnessed Kasyanov’s horse, and we set off. In the office, I quickly bought an axle and plunged into cuts, hoping to hunt black grouse. Kasyan followed me. No wonder he was nicknamed Flea: he walked very agilely, picking some weed and looking at me with a strange look.
Without stumbling upon a single brood, we entered the grove. I lay on the grass. Suddenly, Kasyan spoke to me. He said that the creature of God is defined for man, and a forest creature is a sin to kill. The old man’s speech was not peasant, it was a solemn and strange language. I asked Kasyan what he was doing. He replied that he was working poorly, and that he hunted nightingales for human pleasure. He was a literate man; he did not have a family. Kasyan sometimes treated people with herbs, and in the district he was considered a holy fool. They resettled them with the Beautiful Swords about 4 years ago, and Kasyan missed his native places. Taking advantage of his special position, Kasyan went around half of Russia.
Suddenly Kasyan started, peering intently into the thicket of the forest. I looked around and saw a peasant girl in a blue sarafan and with a wicker box on his hand. The old man affectionately called her, calling Alyonushka. When she came closer, I saw that she was older than I thought was 13 years old or 14 years old. She was small and thin, slender and dexterous. The pretty girl was strikingly similar to Kasyan: the same sharp features, movements and a crafty look. I asked if it was his daughter. With mock negligence, Kasyan replied that she was his relative, and in all his appearance passionate love and tenderness were visible.
The hunt failed, and we returned to the settlements, where Erofei was waiting for me with an axis. Approaching the courtyard, Kasyan said that he took the game away from me. I could not convince him of the impossibility of this. An hour later, I left, leaving Kasyan some money. On the way, I asked Erofei what kind of person Kasyan was. The coachman said that at first Kasyan and his uncles went to the cab, and then left, began to live at home. Erofei denied that Kasyan can heal, although he himself was cured of scrofula. Alyonushka was an orphan, she lived with Kasyan. He did not cherish a soul in her and was going to teach literacy.
We stopped several times to wet the axis, which was heated by friction. Already quite a bit when we returned home.
