The enemy had really stationed two guns where the Tartars had been riding, and every twenty or thirty min- utes they sent a shot at our wood-cutters. My platoon was moved out into the clearing, and the order was given to return the fire. At the edge of the forest appeared a puff of smoke, there was heard a discharge, a whistling, — and the ball fell behind or in front of us. The projectiles of the enemy lodged harmlessly, and we had no losses.

The artillerists conducted themselves well, as they always did, loaded expeditiously, carefully aimed at the puffs of smoke, and quietly joked each other. The flank- ing infantry detachment lay near us, in silent inaction, waiting for their turn. The wood-cutters did their work : the axes sounded through the woods faster and more fre- quently ; only, whenever the whistling of the projectile was heard, everything suddenly grew quiet, and amid the dead silence could be heard the not very calm voices, " Get out of the way, boys ! " and all eyes were directed toward the ball, ricocheting over the fires and the brush.

The fog was now completely lifted, and, assuming the forms of clouds, was slowly disappearing in the dark blue vault of the sky ; the un shrouded sun shone brightly and cast its gleaming rays on the steel of the bayonets, the brass of the ordnance, the thawing earth, and the spark- ling hoarfrost. The air was brisk with the freshness of the morning frost, together with the warmth of the vernal sun ; thousands of different shadows and hues were min- gled in the dry leaves of the forest, and on the hard shin- iDg road were distinctly visible the traces of the wheel tires and horse-shoe sponges.

Between the troops the motion grew more animated and more noticeable. On all sides flashed more and more fre- quently the bluish puffs of the discharges. The dragoons, with the pennons fluttering from their lances, rode out in front ; in the companies of the infantry, songs were started, and the wagons with the wood were being drawn up in the rear. The general rode up to our platoon, and ordered us to get ready for the retreat. The enemy took up a position in the bushes, opposite our left flank, and began to harass us with musketry-fire. On the left side a bullet whizzed by from the forest and struck a gun-car- riage, then a second, a third — The flanking infantry, which was lying near us, rose noisily, picked up their guns, and formed a cordon. The fusilade grew fiercer, and the bullets kept flying oftener and oftener. The retreat began, and, consequently, the real engagement, as is always the case in the Caucasus.

It was quite evident that the artillerists did not like the bullets, as awhile ago the foot-soldiers had enjoyed the cannon-balls. Antonov frowned. Chikin imitated the sound of the bullets and made fun of them ; but it was apparent that he did not like them. Of one he said, " What a hurry it is in ! " another he called a " little bee ; " a third one, which flew over us slowly, and whining pitifully, he called an " orphan," which provoked a uni- versal roar.

The recruit, who was not used to this, bent his head aside and craned his neck every time a bullet passed by, which, too, made the soldiers laugh. " Is it an acquaint- ance of yours, that you are bowing to it ? " they said to him, Velenchiik, who otherwise was exceedingly indif- ferent to danger, now was in an agitated mood : he was obviously angry because we did not fire any canister-shot in the direction from which the bullets proceeded. He repeated several times, in a discontented voice : " Why do we let Mm shoot at us for nothing ? If we trained our gun upon him, and treated him to a canister-shot, he probably would stop."

It was indeed time to do so. I ordered the last shell let out, and a canister-shot loaded.

" Canister-shot ! " cried Antonov, lustily, before the smoke had dispersed, and walking up with the sponge to the gun the moment the shell had been discharged.

Just then I suddenly heard a short distance behind me the ping of a whizzing bullet striking against something. My heart was compressed. " It seems to me it has struck somebody," I thought, but at the same time I was afraid to turn around, under the influence of a heavy presenti- ment. Indeed, immediately following upon this sound was heard the heavy fall of a body, and " Oh, oh, oh ! " the piercing cry of a wounded man. " It has struck me, brothers ! " uttered with difficulty a voice which I recog- nized. It was Velenchuk. He lay fiat on his back between the limber and the gun. The cartridge-box which he carried was thrown to one side. His forehead was blood-stained, and down his right eye and nose ran the thick red blood. The wound was in the abdomen, but he had hurt his forehead in his fall.

All this I found out much later ; in the first moment I saw only an indistinct mass, and a terrible lot of blood, as I thought.

Not one of the soldiers, who were loading the gun, said a word, only the recruit mumbled something like, " I say, all bloody," and Antonov, scowling, angrily cleared his throat ; but it was manifest that the thought of death had passed through the mind of each. Everybody went to work with a vim. The gun was loaded in a twinkle, and the cannoneer, in bringing the shot, made a couple of steps around the place on which the wounded man lay groaning.