"It looks as though he were waiting for something--as though some kind of shroud were covering his eyes. His late mother groped on earth in the same way.
"Just look, there's Afrikanka Smolin, but two years older than my boy--what a man he has become! That is, it is difficult to tell whether he is his father's head or his father his. He wants to go to some factory to study. He swears:
"'Eh,' says he, 'papa, you have not taught me enough.' Yes. While mine does not express himself at all. 0h Lord!""Look here," Mayakin advised him, "you had better push him head foremost into some active business! I assure you! Gold is tested in fire. We'll see what his inclinations are when at liberty.
Send him out on the Kama--alone."
"To give him a trial?"
"Well, he'll do some mischief--you'll lose something--but then we'll know what stuff he is made of.""Indeed--I'll send him off," Ignat decided.
And thus in the spring, Ignat sent his son off on the Kama with two barges laden with corn. The barges were led by Gordyeeff's steamer "Philezhny," under the command of Foma's old acquaintance, the former sailor Yefim--now, Yefim Ilyich, a squarely built man of about thirty with lynx-like eyes--a sober-minded, steady and very strict captain.
They sailed fast and cheerfully, because all were contented. At first Foma was proud of the responsible commission with which he had been charged. Yefim was pleased with the presence of the young master, who did not rebuke or abuse him for each and every oversight;and the happy frame of mind of the two most important persons on the steamer reflected in straight rays on the entire crew. Having left the place where they had taken in their cargo of corn in April, the steamer reached the place of its destination in the beginning of May, and the barges were anchored near the shore with the steamer at their side.
Foma's duty was to deliver the corn as soon as possible, and receiving the payments, start off for Perm, where a cargo of iron was awaiting him, which Ignat had undertaken to deliver at the market.
The barges stood opposite a large village, near a pine forest, about two versts distant from the shore. On the very next day after their arrival, a big and noisy crowd of women and peasants, on foot and on horses, came up to the shore early in the morning.
Shouting and singing, they scattered on the decks and in an instant work started expeditiously. Having descended into the holds, the women were filling the sacks with rye, the peasants, throwing the sacks upon their shoulders, ran over the gang-planks to the shore, and from the shore, carts, heavily laden with the long-expected corn, went off slowly to the village. The women sang songs; the peasants jested and gaily abused one another; the sailors representing the guardians of peace, scolded the working people now and then; the gang-planks, bending under the feet of the carriers, splashed against the water heavily; while on the shore the horses neighed, and the carts and the sand under the wheels were creaking.
The sun had just risen, the air was fresh and invigorating and densely filled with the odour of pines; the calm water of the river, reflecting the clear sky, was gently murmuring, breaking against the sides of the vessels and the chains of the anchors.
The loud and cheerful noise of toil, the youthful beauty of nature, gaily illumined by the sunbeams--all was full of a kind-hearted, somewhat crude, sound power, which pleasantly stirred Foma's soul, awakening in him new and perplexed sensations and desires. He was sitting by the table under the awning of the steamer and drinking tea, together with Yefim and the receiver of the corn, a provincial clerk--a redheaded, short-sighted gentleman in glasses. Nervously shrugging his shoulders the receiver was telling in a hoarse voice how the peasants were starving, but Foma paid little attention to his words, looking now at the work below, now at the other side of the river--a tall, yellow, sandy steep shore, whose edges were covered with pine trees. It was unpeopled and quiet.
"I'll have to go over there," thought Foma. And as though from a distance the receiver's tiresome, unpleasant, harsh voice fell on his ears:
"You wouldn't believe it--at last it became horrible! Such an incident took place! A peasant came up to a certain intelligent man in Osa and brought along with him a girl about sixteen years old.
"'What do you wish?"
"'Here,' he says, 'I've brought my daughter to your Honour.'
"'What for?'
"'Perhaps,' he says, 'you'll take her--you are a bachelor.'
"'That is, how? What do you mean?'
"'I took her around town,' he says. 'I wanted to hire her out as a servant--but nobody would have her--take her at least as your mistress!'
"Do you understand? He offered his own daughter--just think of it!
A daughter--as a mistress! The devil knows what that is! Eh? The man, of course, became indignant and began abusing the peasant. But the peasant spoke to him reasonably:
"'Your Honour! Of what use is she to me at this time? Utterly useless.
I have,' says he, 'three boys--they will be working men; it is necessary to keep them up. Give me,' says he, 'ten roubles for the girl, and that will improve my lot and that of my boys.'
"How is that? Eh? It is simply terrible, I tell you.""No good!" sighed Yefim. "As they say--hunger will break through stone walls. The stomach, you see, has its own laws."This story called forth in Foma a great incomprehensible interest in the fate of the girl, and the youth hastened to enquire of the receiver:
"Well, did the man buy her?"
"Of course not!" exclaimed the receiver, reproachfully.
"Well, and what became of her?"
"Some good people took pity on her--and provided for her.""A-h!" drawled Foma, and suddenly he said firmly and angrily: "Iwould have given that peasant such a thrashing! I would have broken his head!" And he showed the receiver his big tightly-clenched fist.
