Vassenka drove the horses so smartly that they reached the marsh

too early, while it was still hot.

As they drew near this more important marsh, the chief aim of

their expedition, Levin could not help considering how he could

get rid of Vassenka and be free in his movements. Stepan

Arkadyevitch evidently had the same desire, and on his face Levin

saw the look of anxiety always present in a true sportsman when

beginning shooting, together with a certain good-humored slyness

peculiar to him.

"How shall we go? It's a splendid marsh, I see, and there are

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hawks," said Stepan Arkadyevitch, pointing to two great birds

hovering over the reeds. "Where there are hawks, there is sure

to be game."

"Now, gentlemen," said Levin, pulling up his boots and examining

the lock of his gun with rather a gloomy expression, "do you see

those reeds?" He pointed to an oasis of blackish green in the

huge half-mown wet meadow that stretched along the right bank of

the river. "The marsh begins here, straight in front of us, do

you see--where it is greener? From here it runs to the right

where the horses are; there are breeding places there, and

grouse, and all round those reeds as far as that alder, and right

up to the mill. Over there, do you see, where the pools are?

That's the best place. There I once shot seventeen snipe.

We'll separate with the dogs and go in different directions, and

then meet over there at the mill."

"Well, which shall go to left and which to right?" asked Stepan

Arkadyevitch. "It's wider to the right; you two go that way and

I'll take the left," he said with apparent carelessness.

"Capital! we'll make the bigger bag! Yes, come along, come

along!" Vassenka exclaimed.

Levin could do nothing but agree, and they divided.

As soon as they entered the marsh, the two dogs began hunting

about together and made towards the green, slime-covered pool.

Levin knew Laska's method, wary and indefinite; he knew the place

too and expected a whole covey of snipe.

"Veslovsky, beside me, walk beside me!" he said in a faint voice

to his companion splashing in the water behind him. Levin could

not help feeling an interest in the direction his gun was

pointed, after that casual shot near the Kolpensky marsh.

"Oh, I won't get in your way, don't trouble about me."

But Levin could not help troubling, and recalled Kitty's words at

parting: "Mind you don't shoot one another." The dogs came

nearer and nearer, passed each other, each pursuing its own

scent. The expectation of snipe was so intense that to Levin the

squelching sound of his own heel, as he drew it up out of the

mire, seemed to be the call of a snipe, and he clutched and

pressed the lock of his gun.




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