File:Provincial Russia (1913) (14778758932).jpg

Identifier: provincialrussia00stewuoft (find matches)
Title: Provincial Russia
Year: 1913 (1910s)
Authors: Stewart, Hugh, 1884-1934 De Haenen, F
Subjects: Russia
Publisher: London : A. and C. Black
Contributing Library: Robarts - University of Toronto
Digitizing Sponsor: MSN

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, the Don Cossack StenkaRazine, who for three years terrorized the LowerVolga and the Caspian. The sketch tells of a manwhom an unearthly lover bears wherever he pleases,to distant countries or into the distant past. Onthis occasion they stand by the Volga at night, and,though he sees nothing save the dark water, he isconscious suddenly of the noise of screams andcries, furious cursing and laughter, the laughterworst of all, the strokes of oars and blows of axes,slamming as of doors and sea-chests, the scrape ofdigging and wheels, the neighing of horses, thesound of alarums, the clang of chains, drunkensongs and the grinding of teeth, unconsolable weep-ing, pitiful despairing silence, exclamations of com-mand, death-rattles and bravado whistling. Withmasterly art Turguenieff pictures the approach ofStenka Razine. The man still sees nothing, butfeels all at once as if an enormous body were movingstraight towards him. Stepan Timofeyitch, thecorsairs shout, here comes Stepan Timofeyitch,
Text Appearing After Image:
BLESSING THE WATER IN THE COUNTRY THE VOLGA 63 our little father, our ataman, our feeder; and thena terrible voice booms a death-sentence to theirprisoners : Frolka — this was his brother andlieutenant— where are you, dog ? Kindle up onall sides ! Take the axes to the cursed white-hands ! The man feels the heat of flames, thebiting smoke, and at the same moment somethingwarm like blood splashes on his hands and face.The brigands burst into inhuman guffaws, and hefaints away. Right up to the nineteenth century,the mouth of the Usa, which breaks through thehills here, was a nest of pirates. Here from an out-look on the cliffs they kept a watch for merchantvessels, and as soon as one was spied the banks re-echoed with the ominous rallying-cry, Scmn nakitckku / Captain, crew, and burlaks, fell on theirfaces, and the freebooters took what they pleased. At length, at the narrow Samara Gates, the riverbreaks impatiently through its barrier, and turnsfirst sharply south, and then as sharp

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