This long out of print autobiographical work by this Polish author is reproduced here in full. I have transcribed the work and present it here for all to read. Copyright remains the property of the owners whoever and wherever they are. If anyone who is reading this has any historical facts, documents, maps or photographs about Narocz I would be very grateful if you would contact me, Alan at Landschaft I hope readers enjoy, as I have, the tales from this forgotten corner of the world.
Miadziol, Uzla, Narocz, Hatowicz, Nanos, Kupa
Lisiewicz relects upon nature in a walk in the forest and introduces us to the hunting dogs that lived in the settlement, among them Nerus, the "friend" in the chapter's title, the watchdog of the hostel. Aza is an old hound bitch, and is introduced here only cursorily - her life is related later in the book. The dog's lives are characterised by the author. Nerus' encounters with a wolf and other rival dogs are painted in vivid detail and capture the exuberance and doggish curiosity of Nerus wonderfully. The chapter closes with a moment of gentle reflection by the author and his wife at twilight from the balcony of their lodge.
Wikipaedia - in it's modern Balarussian spelling Narach:
Wikipaedia
on Narocz
World
Lakes Database: Lake Narocz PONDERING on the Miadziol tragedy, I went into the forest.
It was windy by the lake, so I found myself a glade well sheltered from
the blast and baked by the sun. This glade was surrounded by august pines
and small, shrivelled fir trees, from which hung festoons of drab, evil
moss. Another layer of thick, green moss covered the ground. I spread
out a blanket, and, reclining, gazed aimlessly at the tree tops and the
clouds which rolled above them. The air was warm and heavy, filled with
the incense of riotous sap and sun-warmed pine needles. Something tickled my hand-1 broke off my musing and
looked at my wrist. A little, brown ant was walking about my palm. There
must be an ant-heap somewhere, and an ant-heap in one's vicinity is not
too pleasant. In fact, nearby, under a tree trunk, rose the characteristic
mound of pine needles and dry twigs; however, it was far enough away not
to endanger my skin. Anyway, I had no inclination to move. Wrapped in
blessed sloth I turned my attention to the ants. There was much lively
activity in ,rhe ant-heap, thp top of which was connected with the ground
by a weather beaten branch, up and down which moved columns of ants. It
was a convenient way for the transport of building materials. However,
at the moment the road was blocked. Some scores of ants were struggling
with the long green body of a caterpillar, which was still alive, and
with awkward movements of its torso was striving to free itself from its
tormentors. But dozens of jaws clenched in the soft flesh, pouring searing
venom into the wounds they made. The caterpillar felt the pain and threw
its body right and left. This did not disturb the ants. Some of their
number dug their feet into the bark with all their strength and dragged
the caterpillar from the front, while others pushed with equal exertion
from- the rear. One might say I could hear their grunts. They tensed all
their muscles, strove valiantly with the excessive weight, and sweat (oh.
Fantasy!) ran off them in streams. The caterpillar was like an obelisk.
Her bulk exceeded many times the combined size of the ants working around
her, so that in the end she prevailed, and fell off the branch. With her
fell all the toilers. From the spot where the caterpillar fell, suddenly rang
out a loud rattling, and something red flashed in the air. The rattling
was so loud that I involuntarily looked round to see if there wasn't a
child with a rattle somewhere about. I could see no child, but on the
spot where the insect with the red wings must have alighted sat a little
grasshopper. I recognized the performer-it was he who made that strange
sound, so like the noise of a child's rattle. Sitting, he did not look
any different from an ordinary grasshopper, like the thousands which dance
in the meadows. Only when he leapt off and spread his splendid red wings,
then resounded the intriguing rattle. As if in answer to his call a similar
noise sounded from the 'other side of the glade, and in the direction
of my grasshopper flew another, this time with sky-blue wings. I raised
myself on my elbow, to watch what would happen next. Alas! a great dragonfly
pounced on my red-winged friend, grasped him in its strong saw-like legs,
and carried him away. Now it was the turn of the dragonfly to be watched.
Fortunately it had not flown far, so I could easily observe its graceful
movements. Usually the dragonfly, to the human mind, is something most
poetic, a living lyric of beauty, yet that lovely creature is a horrible
monster. Compared to the dragonflv, a tiger is a harmless kid, a vegetarian.
The dragonfly's greed knows no limits. If a lion had an appetite like
that, it would have to eat half-a-dozen oxen daily. My dragonfly circled the glade, seeking a suitable place
for lunch. It found one; settled down comfortably on the branch of a small
spruce, and without further delay started the execution. With one stroke
of its jaws it bit off the grass-hopper's head, and swallowing it with
relish, began to tug at the carcase and tear titbits from its sides. Meanwhile the blue grasshopper still sent out into space
its yearning calls. No answer came. At last it fell silent, and, disappointed
in its hopes, flew away. The forest's silence fell on the glade. No twig stirred,
there was no whisper, no rustle. Even the birds fell silent. Only the
core of silence and the sun's glare swam in the long silken skeins of
light. I settled myself more comfortably, and put the pillow under my
head; and my eyes closed of their own accord. I forgot about the ants,
the grasshopper, the dragonfly. I fell into a doze, one of those which
begin by mingling reality with fancies, the present with the past, turn
into fantastic shapes, and lead us into blessed unconsciousness. However,
I was wakened by a slight rustling somewhere on my right. Unwillingly
I opened my eyes, for it is wise to be careful in the forest. This time
it was worth the effort. No further than an arm's length away, from behind a
tree trunk, peered out a little head with enormous ears, which. quickly
hid itself again. In a moment it reappeared. This time from behind the
tree came a little wood mouse in all its splendour of a grey, downy fur
coat, with a brown stripe down the back. It skipped to right and left,
peering around it and listening cautiously. With each movement its ears
gleamed in the sunlight, pink and transparent as an insect's wings. Not
wanting to startle it, I tried not even to breathe. The mouse fell on
a small pinecone, took it in its front paws, sat on its haunches and quickly
began to nibble the tattered scales. Spitting out the less tasty morsels,
it shook its head in annoyance. A new rustle attracted my attention. This
time it came from my left. The mouse dropped the pinecone, and its eyes shone.
But, as if it would have said: "Oh, it's only that one," it dropped its
head and sank its- teeth into the pinecone again. Where lay some larger stones and a few dry branches,
appeared a small, narrow head on a long neck, and a pair of burning red
eyes. A snake! I was just about to jump up, when a second glance showed
me the bluish spots and characteristic markings of the reptile. This was
no adder, but a cousin of- the lizards-the grass snake-a harmless eater
of rain-worms. Knowing nothing of the fear it had awakened in my heart,
the snake crawled slowly to a small sandy spot in the very middle of the
glade, where the sun shone most fiercely. There it rose high on its tail,
like an angry viper. This was probably some ritual dance performed before
settling into a doze as, immediately after, as if with a sigh of relief,
it wound itself into three coils, laid its head on them, and began to
bask in the sun. Meanwhile the ants, for the hundredth time, had dragged
the caterpillar half way up their road-branch. They were working feverishly
in two parties, as before. The caterpillar still writhed, though more
weakly than last time. By evening it would certainly be inside the ant-heap,
where it would meet an inglorious, but from the ants' pomt of view, a
useful death. But this woodland idyll, in the afternoon silence, was
spoilt. Suddenly the mouse stopped eating, listened for a second, and
vanished like a dream. One would think the earth had swallowed it. The
snake too, disturbed, hissed, unwound its coils, and in long zigzags crawled
oft to its stones. After a moment I, too, heard the reason for this anxiety.
Somewhere there were dogs barking. Dogs? Yes! They were certainly barking
somewhere in the forest. And, just as certainly they were no other dogs
but the hounds from the hostel. The one with the undeveloped baritone
could only be Bey, and the other who so musically informed the world of
her discoveries must be his sister, the lovely Lotka. A third voice joined
in with these two, full throated, less nervous, sounding less frequently.
Thus bayed the mother of the two pups, the worthy Aza. The voices came
nearer. Their echo spread far and wide about the forest, tree passed it
on to tree. The dragonfly, which had eaten the whole grasshopper was just
about to attack the tastiest titbit, the wings. But look! The sapling
on which it sat swayed violently, and the dragonflv, leaving the remains
of its lunch uneaten, rose high into the air. Three great black dogs, marked with brown spots on their
breasts and bellies, burst into the clearing and began to circle among
the trees, investigating every inch of ground. The glade was filled with
hellish sound. Panic took hold of every living thing. Two red squirrels
dashed in long leaps to the very tip of a pine tree. A red and grey woodpecker,
flirting its bobtail, flew off after a flock of titmice-even the insects
began to hide themselves in holes and cracks. Just by my hand an unknown,
yellow-spotted beetle turned on its back, folded its legs and played dead.
Only one great green bug went quietly on its way. It knew that it was
always quite safe. The dogs did not cease to wander and bark. Perhaps a
hare had spent the night here? They got very excited; I knew quite well
what they were saying: "Here! Here!" yelled Bey, and pranced on his heavy,
still puppyish, paws. "Here! Here!" "No! No! No!" bayed Aza, collecting her children and
putting them on the right track. "No! No! No!" Lotka, in the full impetus of her hunting, came near
the bug with her nose. Now snorting and snuffing, "Oww! Ufff!"-she violently
rubbed her muzzle on the moss. Poor Lotka! How these bugs stink! Aza leaped into the centre of the clearing: "Where's the trail?" she barked, "where's the trail?"
and threw herself into the bushes. "Where's the trail? Here's the trail!
Where's the trail? Here's the trail! " caught up the children, and ran
off after her. For a long time yet the noise of her calling sounded
in the forest, spread by the echoes in the pines: "Where's the trail? Here's the trail! Here's the trail!"
which ended in the triumphant, victorious : "This is it! This is it!"
which faded in the distance. The glade became lonely. When everything was still and
silent, the tits came back, and, hopping in the branches, began to twitter
their commentary on the whole occurrence. Then the woodpecker fluttered
back to its tree. Next the snake crawled round a fir tree, through the
moss by a little trunk, and, finding its sandy spot again, immediately
lay down comfortably. At last the mouse came out of some hole. It came
across the clearing, ran round twice in circles, found its fir cone and
began to eat. I fell asleep. I woke when the whole glade was already in shadow. No
mouse nor snake was to be seen. Only the caterpillar, with scores of toilers,
again lay on the ground. There was nothing more for me to do there. Besides,
it was time for lunch. I went off in the direction of the hostel. Not far from it I saw the dogs. They had finished their
hunting, and were lying by the lake on the sand warmed by the afternoon
sun. The black skin of their backs shone like well-cleaned boots. The
yellowish markings of the breasts and bellies melted into the colour of
the damp sand, so that at the first glance it seemed as if someone had
thrown down some unevenly cut pieces of night-black velvet. They were
all fast asleep, their legs twitching nervously, as if they were reliving
the recent happenings so dear to a dog's heart. There were plenty of reasons for this. To-day for the
first time the proprietor had taken both puppies into the forest, to try
if they would make as good and enduring a pace as their dam, a highly
prized hound. The test was successful. They returned from their outing
panting, happy and glowing. Now, Just let the leaves turn yellow, and
there would begin for the three a fine life of hunting adventures, a life
of tracing and chasing, hunting on the fresh autumn mornings, in the forest
mists, among firs, pines, birches, undergrowth, and thickets. The unending
stretches of the Uzla lured them with its scents of pine needles, mould)
hare's sweat, the hides of fox and deer, wolf's spittle and the excitement
of a lynx's droppings. Happiness written by a wild animal's foot on the
soft body of the forest. Can the heart of a mortal man know such brimming
happiness? Now they lay in a doze full of dreams of green, luxuriant,
fragrant hope, the mother beside her two children. Nearby, half under the water of the lake near the shore,
sat a fourth dog, also black, but of doubtful features. It's true he was
large and slender, but on the surface he seemed an ordinary mongrel. His
name was Nerus, and he was one of those dwellers on the Narocz whom difference
of appear-ance, curious habits, and high virtues of character had raised
to the honourable position of a separate race. Nerus was born in Hatowicze,
and here fulfilled the important function of watchdog of the hostel. His
life was as simple as his soul was free from guile. In his heart he held
two great loves, which were the theme of his whole life: Aza the hound
and Mikolay his master. Side by side with these loves dwelt two hatreds:
for Rex, an Alsatian, and a Spitz, Rik, both neighbours from a nearby
summer residence. Nerus, who was what is known as a dog of character,
poured into his friendship for Aza all the devotion and faithfulness,
unbounded and disinterested, of which only an honest country dog is capable.
He would follow the old hound bitch like a shadow, gazing at her out of
his slightly bleary eyes, in which could be seen the greatest rapture
and adoration. His love for the mother included the children. He allowed
both Aza's puppies, Lotka and Bey, to pull his ears, steal food from his
dish, take away his bones without protest, and even roll him over and
worry him. He bore all his sufferings with a patience worthy of admiration,
asking nothing in return save the right to live in common friendship with
the whole three. Thus now, resting in the cool water, he watched his
three ideals sleeping on the shore, hung out his tongue, and was completely
happy. Slowly the sun descended from its zenith and lowered
its fiery circle over the Nanos and Kupa shores. The shadows of the pines
covering the hounds' resting place grew longer. The bitch opened one eye,
then the other. She raised her head. shook it to get rid of the tiresome
flies, and got up. Bey still slept. No doubt it seemed to the puppy that
he was still hunting, for his legs never stopped twitching, and from his
muzzle escaped groans like stifled sobs. Lotka, on the other hand, was
awake, as a slight movement of her tail bore witness. She lay still, however,
too lazy to rise. But the careful mother mudged her once or twice with
her nose. Oh well! Lotka yawned, showing the world her red tongue and
all her teeth, stretched her legs out stiffly, and at last got up. Putting
her head on one side with one ear pricked (the other was rolled over like
the lapel of a greatcoat), she looked foolishly at her mother, and then,
without warning, with a growl, began to tug with all her strength at her
sleeping brother's coat. The startled Bey jumped up and took flight. She
caught him up and knocked him off his feet. They joined in a struggle
as furious as it was harmless, and even more noisy. Nerus barked at them from a distance, not coming out
of the water. Aza on the other hand, sitting under a pine tree and scratching
her side with her hind leg, watched them with a beatific expression. "Aza! Bey! Lotka! Nerus! "came a woman's voice from
the direction of the house. The dogs stopped their game and pricked their ears. "Come on, pups! Come here!" came the call again. They all dashed off towards the voice. They knew it
was the summons to dinner. Running, they already felt on their tongues
and in their mouths the blessed savour of barley meal. After the hounds
went the somewhat slower Nerus, streaming with water. He did not follow
his companions straight into the yard, but went round to the other side
of the building. Unhurriedly he crossed the drive, wagging his tail to
the visitors standing there, then, by the tennis courts, turned and crept
along the house wall, looking anxiously in every direction. The causes
of this behaviour were grave. At this time Rex, the Alsatian, usually
came over to the hostel, in order, if possible, to tear Nerus's dinner
from under his very nose and eat it himself. Rex, the Alsatian, was the tyrant of the district and
regarded the forest, the hostel and every living creature in the area
as his own private property. He ruled by force. In this he was aided by
the Spitz, Rik, his faithful companion, who recognized the Alsatian's
power and was his devoted henchman. The capital of their kingdom was the
rubbish heap near the stables. To this, attracted by the smell of rotting
oddments, there often came miserable mongrels from Hatowicz, half-wild
animals with narrow heads and a ravenous look, mixtures of wolf and vagabond
dogs from the woods. On the rubbish he could show this gang who was master.
There Rex sat in ambush and waited till some village mongrel poked his
head out of a bush. The mongrel, taking a look round, would approach the
heap and begin to scrape. Then Rex appeared unnoticed trorn behind him
in all the majesty ol his great body and glittering teeth. The surprised
dog never even showed fight. But even if such a rash creature should appear,
he was immediately overthrown, bitten and chased into the forest. Usually,
however, the mongrels at the mere sight of Rex would turn humbly on their
backs and surrender to his mercy. The victor approached his humble slave,
nudged him with his nose and growled. Woe to the victim who dared to move
or even wink! Seeing their submission, he walked off as if bored by so
easy a victory. Justice was satisfied. Now came the Spitz's turn. Up till now Rik had stood
apart, either so as not to interfere or to be in safety. Immediately after
his master's exit, while the spell of his might still lasted, Rik became
tax gatherer, executor, and exciseman in one. He deprived the vanquished
without ceremony of the exhumed treasures; bits of rotten meat, the heads
and entrails of fish, bones or greasy paper. All that was edible he ate
on the spot, and the rest he carried away to the summer house, where he
buried his treasures in a certain place known only to himself, between
a shed and the wood-yard. Nerus knew of this practice from personal experience.
How many times he had lain on his back with his tail between bis legs!
Lain in ignominy till the tyrant went away and disappeared from view.
Sometimes the tormentor would come artfully back, and give such a beating
that the wounds he inflicted needed much licking before they would heal.
He was especially hard on Nerus. He was not content with taking toll on
the rubbish heap, but wherever he could he fell on the poor dog, and forced
him into shameful vassal greetings. What was worse, because Nerus was
under his eye, and in constant reach of his power, he deprived him even
of what he managed to get from other sources. In a word, he tyrannized
over him. Therefore, before he ate his dinner, Nerus carefully
scrutinized his surroundings. He even walked round the outhouse where
there was a way from the well, one eye on the gate. Nothing suspicious.
Satisfied, with nimble bounds he ran to the kitchen verandah, by which
his dish always stood with dinner prepared. He ran up, looked and stiffened. Over the puppies' dish, contrary to the dogs' unwritten
laws, which command unalterable respect for ladies and children, over
the puppies' dish-1 repeat-stood Rex with threatening lifted tail and
raised hackles. Not far away in the bushes could be seen the meddlesome
muzzle of the Spitz. The terrified puppies huddled in a corner by the
steps and gazed into the red eyes of the tyrant, who looked, in comparison
with them, like an elephant among foals. Aza was nowhere about. (Bah!
If she had been there, Rex would never have dared!) She was probably eating,-
as she often did, with her master upstairs. This was necessary, as Aza
went hungry otherwise, for the puppies, gifted with healthy appetites,
ate not only their own food, but their mother's too. A shiver of fear ran over Nerus. He just could not stir.
Well he knew this feeling of complete numbness. He had felt it, in his
time, on a strange occasion. One day late last summer, he went with Zina,
Mikolay's wife, to the woods for mushrooms. While Zina sought in the bushes
for different species of mushrooms, Nerus, never going too far away, wandered
about the clearing on his own. People like to inspect picture galleries,
dogs, on the other hand, find a similar pleasure in sniffing the ground.
A dog's ground has wonderful features! It secretly hides, in damp places,
on moss and grass, in bushes and among the' rotting leaves, essences of
a magic treasury of scents. Scent, smell, fragrance, stink-what stimuli
to the imagination! Conjured up by the smell, one image after another
appears to delight the greedy senses. A whiff and there trembles in the
grass a hidden mouse, another whiff-look! A hare lopes from bush to bush.
Here a curious squirrel hops over the moss, there the bloodthirsty trail
of the dove-hunting marten is written in the grass, again there shows
the figure of a fox, elsewhere a badger, polecat, weasel or wagtail, lizard
or frog. Everything seems as solid and real as if the creatures stood
before one's very nose. But though the fancy creates wonderful pictures,
the mouth, nose and tongue are eternally unsatisfied. The mouth would
like to hold, the teeth to tear and the tongue to taste the hot blood,
the greatest delight, the aim of all hunting, the peak of life's pleasures. Just then Nerus was following the trail of some smallish
bird, with a scent reminiscent of a fowl. Perhaps it was a blackcock.
He licked his chops. It is true he saw in his imagination not so much
the blackcock as a clucking cackle, and with all his heart longed to catch
the fleeing quarry by its soft rump. He even felt how the feathers flew
about his muzzle and pleasantly tickled his palate. But suddenly this
dog's delight changed into a feeling of terror. The change came from outside,
as quick as a stone thrown unobserved, hitting him. He raised his head
and saw it. Before him stood something which was dog and no dog.
A dark-grey form baring white teeth. It did not bark nor growl, only stood
there and gritted its teeth. It did not wag its tail, which hung down
between its legs. From out of the woolly locks of its flat head two eyes
shone with a greenish fire. Its look burnt a way to Nerus' very heart,
destroying every instinct of fight or escape. Nerus was helpless. Of all
his feelings there remained only fear. A fear biting like a frost, the
cold frost which hurts one's very bones, like the most merciless frost-for
cold and merciless is the fear of death. The creature, seeing that Nerus was unable to move,
began to circle him in silence, drawing the circles ever narrower, closer.
Nerus shivered. He well knew that this was the end. Not in the fiery eyes did he read the certainty of his
fate, nor in the wolf-like step, quiet, rather cat-like, on soft paws,
the step of a creature creeping up on its prey. The sentence was delivered
in the scent of destruction and hate, with which the wolf's body surrounded
him. It was like a prison wall, impenetrable, a wall at the foot of which
the scaffold stood ready. He did not defend himself, did not even try to escape.
Rescue came, however, as sudden as it was unhoped for, in the person of
Zina. Zina came into the glade and in one movement threw herself at the
wolf, raising her only weapon -the basket of mushrooms. Wolves are cowardly
creatures, and this singleton withdrew into the bushes, grinding its teeth
in farewell. Nerus still stood dazed, stiff, motionless, with 'his
bristles raised, still in the same attitude as when he caught sight of
the wolf. Zina had to take him home by force, more carrying than dragging.
At the hostel Nerus immediately hid himself in his hole under the steps,
and did not come out for three days. From this time he never went out
of range of the hostel, unless-but that's another story. With Rex before him, a strong enemy, powerful and merciless
tyrant, he sensed the same atmosphere as during his experience in the
woods, so reacted in the same way-went numb. Perhaps if the Alsatian had
attacked him he would politely have turned over on his back and waited
on his lord and master's grace, but Rex took no notice of Nerus. He still
stood over the dishes, showing his teeth and growling. He probably thought
that the puppies were grown up enough to be taught manners and recognize
themselves as the humble servants of his, Rex's, power. Bey's long-drawn whine aroused Nerus. The numbness passed
and a hot wave of anger flowed over him. If he had at that moment seen
himself in a mirror he would have put his tail between his legs and fled
from his own image. Anger changed him into a wild animal with bristling
neck, eyes suffused with blood, an animal grinding its teeth like that
wolf in the clearing. His doggy tail vanished, and his brush hung down
heavy and bushy. To be sure, his ancestor also was a wolf. Not for nothing
did he lead Nerus' mother out into the woods in the spring, on a moonlit
night. So that in his anger he was more like a wolf than Rex, the "wolf
dog." Fury made him blind, deaf, and unthinking. He did not even know
that he rose into the air in a long arch and fell with all four feet on
Rex's back. He did not feel how he sank his teeth in his neck and, tearing
at the skin, instinctively sought the artery pulsing with blood. He neither
knew nor felt that he was fighting, worrying, throwing off his feet a
far stronger opponent, who, surprised, did not even try to defend himself,
but, lowering his tail with a whine, fled for his life. Nerus, having
defeated Rex, turned to the Spitz, who, howling with terror, cried desperately
tor help. Seeing no wav out, he threw himself at the fence, tore through
and vanished into the bushes. Nerus came back, and again set off on the
track of the Alsatian. He wanted to chase him, so ran to the gate, with
lowered head and foaming at the mouth. A hard bump brought him to his senses. In his blind
chase his nose collided with a stake in the fence so hard that he recoiled
backward. For a second he lay, then rubbed his muzzle with his forepaws,
and, limping a little, went back to the puppies on the porch. There he
licked both their faces, and turned to his own dish. It still stood full
of food. The wonderful scent of meal, bits of meat and boiled potatoes
over-came him completely. He immediately forgot all about Rex, Rik and
'even the puppies. He ate. When he had finished he licked the dish, then
his lips, looked around, and seeing that the puppies were not there, raced
down to the water after them. He did not find them on the lake, they had probably
gone into the woods for a walk. Nerus could not follow them, for he had
a thousand and one things to do. First of all he went down to the landing-stage
and counted the canoes to see if they were all there. Alas, there were
only a few. Then he greeted all the guests at the hostel in turn, politely
showing his teeth and twisting his face in a smile. Finally he went on
to the jetty to see if the fish were still swimming about the piers. On the way back he found some hens in the flower-beds,
and soon chased them into the yard. The cock, to punish him for neglect
of his harem, he chased on to the byre roof, having done which, he spent
some time barking at him from below, watching with pleasure how that knight
of doubtful courage clucked helplessly on the roof. Then-remembering the
most important duty-went off to the garbage can. There he held a short
inspection of the potato peelings, fish heads and bones, chose the tastiest
and dragged it with difficulty to the shed where Aza and the puppies lived.
The bitch already lay on her bedding. Nerus laid the bone beside her and
began to leap joyfully round her. Evening was falling and grey shadows slid across the
lake. The sunset was tading in the sky behind the Kupa hills. The water
murmured pleasantly on the sandy shore. All the canoes were home. They
had been hauled up the shore and settled in their places by diligent Mikolay.
It was quiet near the hostel, for all the guests were at dinner. Nerus, after circling several times round the shed,
came slowly back to Aza's resting-place. Without entering, he put his
head into the shed and for an instant listened to the snores and sighs
of the sleeping family of hounds. Then he retreated and humbly rolled
himself into a ball on the threshold. But he did not sleep-he listened. Great bats flew round in crowds, setting up little whirlpools
in the air, which caressed his hot nostrils. From time to time a cockchafer
buzzed or a gnat whined shrilly. From the forest came a warm scent of
sap, spreading over the earth. The trees lapped up the damp dews, the
silence, appeasement, sleep, and blessedness. Then suddenly out of that twilight strange shapes began
to creep towards Nerus: half human, half animal, in forms fantastic or
monstrous) some as huge as the forest, others as tiny as ants, some as
clear as the moon rising in the sky, others as pale as the nothingness
from which they were formed. Some he recognized-for instance, his master
appeared- Mikolay with the head of Aza; and again he saw Aza with three
human heads with the features of Bey, Lotka, and the Cock. Rex and Rik,
joined in the body of one great snake, crept around him in a thick mist,
growling threateningly. All this crawled over the whole surface of the
clearing, joined. and separated and disappeared, whirling at last in a
dance so swift that all that there was to be seen was a series of great,
wheels and circles of coloured light. Above this procession, water began
to flow, transparent and delicate as a morning mist, covered with golden
sparkles of sunlight, like the water by the jetty in the midday light.
It covered everything and melted everything, and when it reached Nerus
and covered his head, it seemed to him that he had fallen into the very
middle of the deep peaceful silence of sleepy dark-ness. And indeed-Nerus
fell asleep. Standing on the balcony with my wife, I looked out into
the yard. I could see in the gloom a grey, indistinct shadow under the
coach-house. It was Nerus rolled into a ball. I knew that he would lie
there till morning.Chapter X: The Text