A Russian Gentleman - The Original Classic Edition. Aksakov S

some time in the beautiful country watered by the Ik and the Dyoma.9 It is an enchanting region; and even in his old age Stepan Mihailovitch often spoke with enthusiasm of the first impression produced on him by the astonishing richness of that soil. But he did not allow himself to be carried away. Ascertaining on the spot that any purchaser of Bashkir land was quite sure to be involved in endless disputes and lawsuits--for it was impossible for the acquirer to make sure either of his own title or of the number of the former owners--my grandfather, who feared and hated like poison the very name of a lawsuit, resolved to buy no land direct from the Bashkirs or without formal legal documents to confirm his ownership. Thus he hoped to exclude the possibility of disputes,

       and surely he had reason for such a hope; but things turned out very differently, and the last claim was only settled by his youngest grandson when he was forty years old.

       My grandfather returned reluctantly from the banks of the Ik and the Dyoma to Boogoorooslan, where he bought land from a

       Russian lady near the river of that name and distant twenty-five versts from the town. The river is rapid and deep and never runs

       dry. For forty versts, from the town of Boogoorooslan to the Crown settlement of Fair Bank, the country on both sides of the river was uninhabited, so that there was ample room; and the amenities of the spot were wonderful. The river was so transparent that, if you threw in a copper coin, you could see it resting on the bottom even in pools fifteen feet deep. In some places there was a thick border of trees and bushes--birches, poplars, service-trees, guelder-roses, and bird-cherries, where the hop-bines trailed their green festoons and hung their straw-coloured clusters from tree to tree; in other places, the grass grew tall and strong, with an infinite profusion of flowers, including tall Meadow Sweet, Lords' Pride (the scarlet Lychnis), Kings' Curls (the Martagon lily), and Cat-grass or Valerian. The river flows along a valley varying in breadth and bordered on both sides by sloping hills with a steep cliff here and there; the slopes were thickly covered with hard-wood trees of all sorts. As you got out of the valley, the level steppe spread out before you, a black virgin soil over two feet in depth. Along the river and in the neighbouring marshes, wild ducks of all kinds, and geese, woodcocks, and snipe made their nests and filled the air with their different notes and calls; while on the table-land above, where the grass grew thick and strong, the music in the air was as rich and quite distinct. Every kind of bird that lives in the steppe bred there in multitudes--bustards, cranes, and hawks; and on the wooded slopes there were quantities of black-game. The river swarmed with every variety of fish that could endure its ice-cold water--pike, perch, chub, dace, and even salmon. Both steppe and forest were filled beyond belief with wild creatures. In a word, the place was, and still is, a paradise for the sportsman.

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       My grandfather bought about 12,000 acres for 2500 roubles. That was a large sum in those days, and the price was much higher than was generally paid. When he had assured his title by legal documents, he went back with a light heart to his expectant family in the Government of Simbirsk. There he set to work with fierce energy and made all preparations for transferring at once a portion of his serfs to the new estate. It was an anxious and troublesome job, because the distance was considerable--about 400 versts. That same autumn twenty families of serfs started for the district of Boogoorooslan, taking with them ploughs and harrows with rye for sow-ing. They chose their ground and set to work on the virgin soil. Two thousand acres were lightly ploughed, then harrowed, and sown with winter rye; two thousand more were ploughed in preparation for the spring sowing; and some cottages were built. When this was done, the men travelled back to spend the winter at home. When winter was over, twenty more labourers again went forth; and,

       as the spring advanced, they sowed the two thousand acres with spring wheat, erected fences round the cottages and byres, and made stoves for the cottages out of clay. The second party then returned home. These were distinct from the actual settlers, who remained at home, preparing for their move and selling off what they did not need--their houses and kailyards, stock and corn, and all sorts

       of odds and ends.

       The date fixed was the middle of June, that the colonists might reach their destination before St. Peter's Day,10 when hay-cutting begins. The carts were packed with the women and children and old people, and awnings of bast bent over them to protect them from the sun and rain; the indispensable pots and pans were piled up inside, the cocks and hens perched on the top, and the cows tied on behind; and off they started. The poor settlers shed bitter tears as they parted for ever with their past life, with the church in which they had been christened and married, and with the graves of their fathers and grandfathers. Nobody likes moving, and

       a Russian peasant least of all; but to move in those days to an unknown land inhabited by unbelievers, where the churches were so distant that a man might die without confession and infants remain long unchristened, a land of which rumour reported evil as well as good--this seemed a terrible ordeal. When the peasants had gone, my grandfather started after them. He had taken a vow that, when circumstances allowed, he would build a church dedicated to the Presentation of Our Lady--it was actually built by his son-- and he named the new settlement after the festival. But the peasants, whose example was followed by their neighbours, called it New Bagrovo, after their master and in memory of Old Bagrovo, from which they had come; and to this day the formal name is only used in legal documents. No one knows the village, with its fine stone church and high manor-house, by any other name than Bagrovo. With unremitting care and attention my grandfather watched the labour of the people on their own land and on his; the hay was mown, the winter rye and spring corn were cut down and carried, and the right moment was chosen for each operation. The yield of

       the crops was fabulous. The peasants thought things were not so bad after all. By November, cottages were built for them all, and the beginning of a house for the owner was run up. All this was not done without help from neighbours. In spite of the long distances, they came willingly to lend a hand to the new landowner, who proved to be sensible and friendly; they ate and drank and turned to with a will, and sang as they worked. In that winter my grandfather went to Simbirsk and brought back his wife and children with

       him.

       Next year forty more serfs were transferred and set up in their new abodes; and this proved an easier job. My grandfather's first operation in this year was to build a mill; without it, it had been necessary to drive forty versts to get his corn ground. A spot was chosen where the river was not deep, the bottom sound, and the banks high and solid. Then a dam of earth and brushwood was started from each bank, like a pair of hands ready to clasp; next, the dam was wattled with osiers, to make it more substantial; and all that remained was to stop the swift strong current and force it to fill the basin intended for it. The mill itself, with two pairs of millstones, was built beforehand on the lower bank. All the machinery was ready and even greased. It was the business of the river,

       when checked in its natural course, to fill the broad dam and pour through wooden pipes down upon the great wheel. When all was

       ready and four long oaken piles had been firmly driven into the clay bottom of the river, my grandfather invited his neighbours to lend him their assistance for two days; and they came, bringing horses and carts, spades, forks, and axes. On the first day, great piles of brushwood, straw, manure, and fresh-cut sods were heaped up on both banks of the Boogoorooslan, while the river continued

       to pour down its waters at its own sweet will. Hardly any one slept that night, and next morning at sunrise about a hundred men set to work to dam the stream; they all looked solemn and serious, as if they had important business before them. They began on both sides at the same moment. With loud cries they hurled with sturdy arms faggots of brushwood into the water; part was carried down by the stream, but part stuck against the piles and sank across the channel. Next came bundles of straw weighted with stones, then soil and manure, then more brushwood, followed by more straw and manure, and, on the top of all, a thick layer of sods. All this ac-cumulation was swallowed up till it rose at last above the surface of the water. At once, a dozen strong and active men sprang on to the barrier and began to tread it and stamp it down. The operation was performed with the utmost speed; and the general excitement was so great and the noise so vociferous, that a passer-by, if he had not known the reason of it, might have been frightened. But

       there was no one there to be frightened by it: only the