One time in winter I had gone into the woods after timber. I had cut down three trees, and lopped off the limbs, and was hewing them, when I looked up and saw that it was getting late ; that it was time to go home. But the weather was bad ; it was snowing and blowing. I said to myself :
" The night is coming on, and you don't know the way."
I whipped up the horse and drove on ; still there was no sign of outlet. Forest all around.
I thought how thin my shuba was ; I was in danger of freezing to death.
I still pushed on ; it grew dark, and I was entirely off the road.
I was just going to unyoke the sled and protect myself under it, when I heard not far away the jingle of bells. I went in the direction of the bells, and saw a troika of roan horses, their manes tied with ribbons ! their bells were jingling, and two young men were in the sleigh.
"Good evening, brothers."
" Good evening, peasant."
" Where is the road, brothers ? "
" Here we are right on the road."
I went to them, and I saw that strangely enough the road was unbroken, all drifted over.
" Follow us," said they, and they whipped up their horses.
My wretched mare could not keep up with them. I began to shout :
" Hold on, brothers ! "
They waited for me, laughing.
"Get in with us," said they; "it will be easier for your horse without a load."
" Thank you," said I.
I climbed into their sledge. It was handsome well lined. As soon as I sat down, how they spurred on the horses ! " Now then, my darlings / "
The roan horses dashed away, making the snow fly in clouds.
What a wonderful thing ! It grew lighter and lighter, and the road became as glare as ice, and we flew so fast that it took away my breath, and the twigs lashed my face. It began to be painful.
I looked ahead ; there was a steep mountain, a very steep mountain, and at the foot of the mountain a ravine. The roans were flying straight for the ravine.
I was frightened, and cried :
"Heavens and earth! slow up, you, slow up; you will kill us ! "
But the men only laughed, and urged on the horses the more. I saw there was no saving us ; the ravine was under our very runners. But I saw a bough right over my head.
" Well," I said to myself, "you may go over alone."
I stood up and seized the bough, and there I hung !
As I caught it I shouted :
" Hold on ! " And then I heard women shouting :
" Uncle Semyon ! what is the matter ? Start up the fire, you women ! Something is wrong with Uncle Semyon ! he is screaming ! Stir up the fire ! "
I woke up, and there I was in my cottage, clinging to the loft, and screaming at the top of my voice. And all that I had seen had been a dream !
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