"Because they are so grand and so beautiful," said Maurice. "No
other place has the like, and they make one's heart swell with
wonder, and joy in the God who made them."

And Maurice's eyes sparkled, and Lucy looked at the clear, stern
glory of the mountain points, and felt as if she understood him.



CHAPTER XII. THE COSSACK.

Caper, caper; dance, dance. What a wonderful dance it was, just as
if the little fellow had been made of cork, so high did he bound
the moment he touched the ground; while he jerked out his arms and
legs as if they were pulled by strings, like the Marionettes that
had once performed in front of the window. Only, his face was all
fun and life, and he did look so proud and delighted to show what
he could do; and it was all in clear, fresh, open air, the whole
extent covered with short, green grass, upon which were grazing
herds of small lean horses, and flocks of sheep without tails, but
with their wool puffed out behind into a sort of bustle or _panier_.
There was a cluster of clean, white-looking houses in the distance;
and Lucy knew that she was in the great plains called the Steppes,
that lie between the rivers Volga and Don.

"Do you live there?" she asked, by way of beginning the conversation.

"Yes; my father is the hetman of the Stantitza, and these are my
holidays. I go to school at Tcherkask the greater part of the