"Bang! bang!" sounded almost in his ear. Vassenka had fired at a

flock of ducks which was hovering over the marsh and flying at

that moment towards the sportsmen, far out of range. Before

Levin had time to look round, there was the whir of one snipe,

another, a third, and some eight more rose one after another.

Stepan Arkadyevitch hit one at the very moment when it was

beginning its zigzag movements, and the snipe fell in a heap into

the mud. Oblonsky aimed deliberately at another, still flying

low in the reeds, and together with the report of the shot, that

snipe too fell, and it could be seen fluttering out where the

Advertisement..

sedge had been cut, its unhurt wing showing white beneath.

Levin was not so lucky: he aimed at his first bird too low, and

missed; he aimed at it again, just as it was rising, but at that

instant another snipe flew up at his very feet, distracting him

so that he missed again.

While they were loading their guns, another snipe rose, and

Veslovsky, who had had time to load again, sent two charges of

small-shot into the water. Stepan Arkadyevitch picked up his

snipe, and with sparkling eyes looked at Levin.

"Well, now let us separate," said Stepan Arkadyevitch, and

limping on his left foot, holding his gun in readiness and

whistling to his dog, he walked off in one direction. Levin and

Veslovsky walked in the other.

It always happened with Levin that when his first shots were a

failure he got hot and out of temper, and shot badly the whole

day. So it was that day. The snipe showed themselves in

numbers. They kept flying up from just under the dogs, from

under the sportsmen's legs, and Levin might have retrieved his

ill luck. But the more he shot, the more he felt disgraced in

the eyes of Veslovsky, who kept popping away merrily and

indiscriminately, killing nothing, and not in the slightest

abashed by his ill success. Levin, in feverish haste, could not

restrain himself, got more and more out of temper, and ended by

shooting almost without a hope of hitting. Laska, indeed, seemed

to understand this. She began looking more languidly, and gazed

back at the sportsmen, as it were, with perplexity or reproach in

her eyes. Shots followed shots in rapid succession. The smoke

of the powder hung about the sportsmen, while in the great roomy

net of the game bag there were only three light little snipe.

And of these one had been killed by Veslovsky alone, and one by

both of them together. Meanwhile from the other side of the

marsh came the sound of Stepan Arkadyevitch's shots, not

frequent, but, as Levin fancied, well-directed, for almost after

each they heard "Krak, Krak, _apporte_!"




Most Popular