have styled the hall door, orfront entrance, but the truth is Captain Varde's house had no front, or,in other words, it had two; for the spacious hall led you straightthrough to the wide terraced lawn and flower garden, that skirted thelovely river.
"When we go down to the village," said Varde, "which is situated aboutthree miles from here, we sometimes go by boat, and sometimes with thehorses in the conveyance I have landed you in to-day. But here comes mywife and daughter, the only two beings I love on earth."
The first greetings betwixt himself and family being ended, CaptainVarde introduced our heroes, who were very kindly welcomed, and made tofeel perfectly at home; so much so that before the first day of theirvisit had come to an end, they seemed to have known this family alltheir lives.
When, after dinner, the ladies had retired, and the gentlemen lingeredover the walnuts and wine,--
"Captain Varde," said Fred Freeman, "I cannot tell you how muchastonished I and my comrades feel at all we see around us in this prettyhome of yours. It is so different from anything we could have expectedto meet with in Russia."
"It is, indeed," added Chisholm, "there is an air of refinementeverywhere, and, if you will excuse me for saying so, captain, theEnglish spoken by Mrs and Miss Varde, with the exception of a slightforeign accent, which, in my opinion, adds a charm to it, is as perfectas any you will hear in London."
"We have travelled a good deal, even in your country," said the Danishcaptain, with a smile.
"Yes, but," said Fred, "you would travel a very long way in Englandwithout meeting with a family who could talk the Russian language. Aslinguists, the people of this country undoubtedly beat us. Now, my ideaof a Russian peasant, or small farmer, was somewhat as follows--shall Ioffend you if I describe my beau-ideal rustic Russian?"
"Certainly not; though my wife and child are Russians by birth, I myselfam a Dane."
"Well, then," said Fred, "the rustic Russian that I had on the brain,and whose prototype I look for here in vain, was indeed a sorry lout--ashort, stout, rough, and unkempt fellow, with less appearance of goodbreeding about him than a Nottingham cowherd, and less manners than aNewcastle navvy, with a good deal of reverence about him for thearistocracy, and an extraordinary relish for rum. He was guiltless ofanything resembling ablution; dressed in sheep's skins, with the hairyside next the skin; slept in this same jacket, and never changed it fromone year's end to another, except for the purpose of taking a bath,which operation he performed by getting inside the stove and raking thehot ashes all about him; his principal diet was the blackest of bread,and the greatest treat you could give him a basin of train-oil and ahorn spoon."
Captain Varde laughed. "Anyhow," he said, "I am glad you have alreadyfound yourselves undeceived, and I do not doubt but that, in yourintercourse with the people of this country, you will find many of thembrave, generous, and gentlemanly fellows, and quite worthy of beingreckoned among the number of your friends."
And Captain Varde was right.
The first two or three months of their life at the house of theirnewly-found friend was quite idyllic in its simplicity. Much of theirtime was spent in fishing and shooting, or in climbing the hills toobtain a view of the wild but beautiful country around them; but inwhatever way the day had been passed, the afternoon always found themgathered around the hospitable board of their worthy host. Then theevening would be spent in pleasant conversation, with music andstory-telling, the stories nearly all coming from the captain himself.He had spent a great deal of his life at sea, and had come throughinnumerable adventures both on the ocean and on land.
"Old sailors," said Varde, once, "are sometimes accused of spinningyarns, with less of facts about them than there might be; but, for myown part, I think that a man who has knocked about the world for abouttwenty years has little occasion to draw upon his imagination."
"I fought a bear one time," he continued, "single-handed, face to face--ay, and I may say breast to breast."
"No easy task that, I should say," remarked Chisholm, "if he were of anysize."
"He was a monster," said Varde, "of Herculean strength; yonder is hisskin on the couch. You may be sure though that I did not court thestruggle, nor am I ever likely to forget it, for two reasons--the firstis that in my right leg I still carry the marks of the brute's talons;the other reason is a far dearer one."
Captain Varde paused, and took his wife's hand in his, gazing at herwith a look of inexpressible tenderness.
"But for that bear adventure I never should have met with my wife. Howmy Adeline's father came to settle down for life in the wild unpeopleddistrict where I first made his acquaintance and hers, I can hardlytell. In his youth he had been a merchant and a dweller in cities; inhis old age he built himself a house many many versts even from avillage of any pretensions, on the confines of a great gloomy forest,and close by a lake that people say is far deeper than the great hillsaround it are high. Here he lived the life of a recluse and a bookworm.
"In the summer of 1845, myself and a few friends had encamped in theneighbourhood of this lake, chiefly to enjoy the excellent fishing thereto be obtained. Not that we did not find work for our guns as well, forthere was abundance of both fur and feather; but my chief delight lay inthe gentler art. One of my friends, Satiesky by name, could do enoughgunning for the whole camp, so I at least was content, and the time wasspent most pleasantly until it set in for settled wet weather.
"At last after several days' rain it was evident the weather was broken,and the summer gone; so, very reluctantly, we prepared to pack ourhorses and trudge back again to the distant city. Packing did not takeus long, and, having packed, we started. A march of six or eight verstsbrought us to the little village or hamlet of Odstok. We had justreached its first house--a small outlying farm built on a woodedeminence. It was well for us we had, for in less than ten minutes thelow land that we had just passed was completely covered with water.What had been fields before was now an inland sea. Swollen by themountain torrents, the river had burst its bounds and swept down thevalley with terrible force, carrying before it fences and trees, andeven the scattered houses which stood in its way, and drowning oxen,horses, sheep, and alas! human beings as well.
"For three whole weeks we were in a state of siege. Not that we wantedfood, however; Jerikoff the farmer's larder was well stored, and he wasvery good to us indeed. He found his old boat, in which he used topaddle about in a little canal before the floods, very handy now. Ishouldn't have cared to risk my life in the ricketty tub; but Jerikoffdid, and used to make voyages to a distant shop, and return laden withmany a little Russian dainty. Once he brought in a haul of hares andrabbits from the flood. They had doubtless taken refuge on a tree as anextemporised island; but when that island itself became flooded, downthe stream, _nolens volens_, they had to float. It is an ill wind thatblows nobody good, and Jerikoff set out in great glee to reap this richharvest of living fur. His face was a study while so engaged. `Oh! mypretty dears,' he said, addressing his victims; `I couldn't think ofseeing you drown before my very face. Come into my boat; there is roomfor you all.' But when the old man, before landing, began to knock themon the head, I daresay the little mariners thought they had got out ofthe frying pan into the fire.
"But about my bear, gentlemen. Well, I am coming to that."
CHAPTER EIGHT.
THE CAPTAIN'S TALE CONTINUED--WINTER BRINGS THE BEARS FROM THEMOUNTAINS--THE TRAGEDY IN THE FOREST--BEARS AT BAY--BREAST TO BREASTWITH BRUIN--FRED FREEMAN FALLS IN LOVE!
"Kind and all as our host Jerikoff was," continued the captain, "none ofus were sorry when the floods began to abate and finally disappeared.But hardly had they gone when yet another change came over thelandscape; for hard frost set in, then small powdery snow began to fall,followed shortly by great flakes, and before twenty-four hours were overour heads the whole country was locked in the embrace of an earlywinter. We weren't altogether sorry for this, for we could now prolongour stay with prospects of good duck and wild-goose shoot
ing, for boththese and many other kinds of game would visit the running streams. Wewould also have an opportunity of doing old Jerikoff a favour by fillinghis larder for him. Your Russian rustic, Mr Freeman, is oftentimes asproud as a prince. Jerikoff was, at all events; and we dared not insulthim by the offer of a single rouble.
"Our host used to do a little shooting himself. One day he met a youngpeasant leading his horse from the forest, where he had been for wood.The little lad's eyes were as round and apparently as big assaucers--_he had seen a bear_. Jerikoff made haste home to tell us, andwe determined to go in search of Mr Bruin. Hardly had we made up ourminds and got ready our guns when another report, and that a verysingular one indeed--although we had no reason to