The murderer of his son stood still, and gazed long upon the lifeless body.Even in death he was very handsome; his manly face, so short a time ago filled with power, and with an irresistible charm for every woman, still had a marvellous beauty; his black brows, like sombre velvet, set off his pale features.
"Is he not a true Cossack?" said Taras; "he is tall of stature, and black-browed, his face is that of a noble, and his hand was strong in battle! He is fallen! fallen without glory, like a vile dog!""Father, what have you done? Was it you who killed him?" said Ostap, coming up at this moment.
Taras nodded.
Ostap gazed intently at the dead man.He was sorry for his brother, and said at once: "Let us give him honourable burial, father, that the foe may not dishonour his body, nor the birds of prey rend it.""They will bury him without our help," said Taras; "there will be plenty of mourners and rejoicers for him."And he reflected for a couple of minutes, whether he should fling him to the wolves for prey, or respect in him the bravery which every brave man is bound to honour in another, no matter whom? Then he saw Golopuitenko galloping towards them and crying: "Woe, hetman, the Lyakhs have been reinforced, a fresh force has come to their rescue!"Golopuitenko had not finished speaking when Vovtuzenko galloped up:
"Woe, hetman! a fresh force is bearing down upon us."Vovtuzenko had not finished speaking when Pisarenko rushed up without his horse: "Where are you, father? The Cossacks are seeking for you.
Hetman Nevelitchkiy is killed, Zadorozhniy is killed, and Tcherevitchenko: but the Cossacks stand their ground; they will not die without looking in your eyes; they want you to gaze upon them once more before the hour of death arrives.""To horse, Ostap!" said Taras, and hastened to find his Cossacks, to look once more upon them, and let them behold their hetman once more before the hour of death.But before they could emerge from the wood, the enemy's force had already surrounded it on all sides, and horsemen armed with swords and spears appeared everywhere between the trees.
"Ostap, Ostap! don't yield!" shouted Taras, and grasping his sword he began to cut down all he encountered on every side.But six suddenly sprang upon Ostap.They did it in an unpropitious hour: the head of one flew off, another turned to flee, a spear pierced the ribs of a third; a fourth, more bold, bent his head to escape the bullet, and the bullet striking his horse's breast, the maddened animal reared, fell back upon the earth, and crushed his rider under him."Well done, son! Well done, Ostap!" cried Taras: "I am following you." And he drove off those who attacked him.Taras hewed and fought, dealing blows at one after another, but still keeping his eye upon Ostap ahead.He saw that eight more were falling upon his son."Ostap, Ostap! don't yield!" But they had already overpowered Ostap; one had flung his lasso about his neck, and they had bound him, and were carrying him away."Hey, Ostap, Ostap!" shouted Taras, forcing his way towards him, and cutting men down like cabbages to right and left.
"Hey, Ostap, Ostap!" But something at that moment struck him like a heavy stone.All grew dim and confused before his eyes.In one moment there flashed confusedly before him heads, spears, smoke, the gleam of fire, tree-trunks, and leaves; and then he sank heavily to the earth like a felled oak, and darkness covered his eyes.
