stick to make it tender; then, having put it with his horny hands
on a blue plate (his only one), he placed it on the table.

'I have all I want. I have victuals, thank God!' he said proudly.
'Well, and what of Mosev?' he added.

Lukashka, evidently wishing to know the old man's opinion, told
him how the officer had taken the gun from him.

'Never mind the gun,' said the old man. 'If you don't give the gun
you will get no reward.'

'But they say. Daddy, it's little reward a fellow gets when he is
not yet a mounted Cossack; and the gun is a fine one, a Crimean,
worth eighty rubles.'

'Eh, let it go! I had a dispute like that with an officer, he
wanted my horse. "Give it me and you'll be made a cornet," says
he. I wouldn't, and I got nothing!'

'Yes, Daddy, but you see I have to buy a horse; and they say you
can't get one the other side of the river under fifty rubles, and
mother has not yet sold our wine.'

'Eh, we didn't bother,' said the old man; 'when Daddy Eroshka was
your age he already stole herds of horses from the Nogay folk and
drove them across the Terek. Sometimes we'd give a fine horse for
a quart of vodka or a cloak.'

'Why so cheap?' asked Lukashka.