207

p Recording the second conversation and explaining
the harmful effects of sea bathing at a temperature
of 2 degrees above freezing-point

p The lieutenant touched Maryutka on the shoulder. He tried to say something, but his teeth were chattering too violently. He thrust his fist under his jaw to stop its shaking.

p “Crying won’t help,” he managed to get out. “We must move about. We’ll freeze if we sit here.”

p Maryutka lifted her head.

p “Where shall we move to?" she said hopelessly. “This is an island. Nothing but water all around.”

p “Even so we’ve got to move. We’ll find a shed somewhere.”

p “How do you know? Was you ever here?”

p “No, but when I was a schoolboy I read that the fishermen build sheds on this island to keep their catch in. We’ve got to find one of those sheds.”

p “And if we find one, what then?”

p “We’ll see in the morning. Get up, Friday"

p Maryutka gave him a frightened look.

p “God, the man’s daft. What’ll I do with him? It ain’t Friday, handsome, it’s Wednesday.”

208

p “That’s all right; don’t mind what I say. We’ll discuss that later. Get up.”

p Maryutka got up obediently. The lieutenant stooped down to pick up the rifles, but she pushed his hand away.

p “No fooling! You gave me your word you wouldn’t make a dash for it.”

p The lieutenant withdrew his hand and went off into peals of hoarse, wild laughter.

p “You’re the one that’s daft it seems, not me. Use your imagination, silly. How could I make a dash for it here? I just wanted to help you with the rifles. They’re heavy.”

p Maryutka was reassured.

p “Thanks for the help,” she said softly and seriously. “But I’ve been ordered to deliver you to headquarters, so I can’t let you have a gun.”

p The lieutenant shrugged his shoulders and picked up the sacks. He walked, ahead of her.

p The sand, mixed with snow, crunched under their feet.There seemed to be no end to this low, sickeningly flat beach.

p In the distance loomed something grey covered with snow.

p Maryutka staggered under the weight of three rifles.

p “Cheer up, Maria Filatovna! We’re almost there. That must be a shed.”

p “If only it is! I’m done in. And frozen stiff.”

p They ducked into the shed. It was black as ink inside and filled with a nauseating smell of dampness and salt fish.

p As the lieutenant groped his way he felt the stacks of fish.

p “Fish! At least we won’t starve to death.”

p “If only we had a light! If we could see, we might find a corner sheltered from the wind,” groaned Maryutka.

209

p “You can hardly expect to find electricity in a place like this.”

p “We could burn the fish. Look how oily they are.”

p The lieutenant laughed again.

p “Burn the fish? You certainly are daft.”

p “Why?" said Maryutka testily. “Where I come from on the Volga we burnt as much as you like. Fish burn better than logs.”

p “It’s the first time I ever heard that. But how will we set fire to them? I’ve got a flint, but what about chips....”

p “Oh, you softy. Anyone can see you was brought up hanging on your mamma’s skirts. Here, take these cartridges apart and I’ll get some chips off the wall.”

p The lieutenant’s fingers were so frozen he could hardly take apart three cartridges. Maryutka almost fell over him in the darkness as she came back with her chips.

p “Sprinkle the gunpowder here. In a little pile. Let’s have the flint.”

p They twisted a rag into a fuse, and it smouldered like a little orange eye in the darkness. Maryutka thrust it into the gunpowder. With a hiss, it burst into slow yellow flames, licking up the dry chips.

p “It’s burning!" cried Maryutka joyfully. “Bring some fish. Bring carp—they’re the fattest.”

p They laid the fish in neat piles on the burning chips. It sizzled, then burst into bright, hot flames.

p “All we’ve got to do is feed it now. There’s enough fish to last six months.”

p Maryutka glanced about her. The flames threw dancing shadows on the enormous stacks of fish. The wooden walls of the shed were full of cracks and holes.

p Maryutka went to inspect the shed.

p “Here’s a corner without any holes in the walls!" she called out suddenly. "Pile on the fish, don’t let 210 the fire go out! I’ll clean out this place. We’ll have a decent corner to live in.”

p The lieutenant sat down beside the fire, hunching his shoulders as the warmth crept into him. Swish! Flop! Maryutka was throwing the fish about in her corner.

p “Everything’s ready!" she called out at last. “Bring a light.”

p The lieutenant picked up a burning carp by the tail and went to look. Maryutka had made walls of fish on three sides, forming an open space about six feet square.

p “Climb in and light another fire. I’ve laid some fish in the middle. Now I’ll bring our supplies.”

p The lieutenant held the burning carp under the little pile of fish. Slowly, reluctantly, it caught fire. Maryutka came back, stood the rifles against the wall and threw down the sacks.

p “Damn it all!" she exclaimed. “What did those two fellows have to go and get drowned for?”

p “It would be a good idea to dry our clothes. We’ll catch cold if we don’t,” the lieutenant said.

p “Then why don’t we? The fire’s hot enough. We’ll take them off and dry them.”

p The lieutenant squirmed.

p “You dry your first, Maria Filatovna. I’ll go out and wait, then I’ll dry mine.”

p Maryutka looked pityingly at his quivering face.

p “You’re a fool if there ever was one. A real bourjui. What are you scared of. Ain’t you never seen a naked woman?”

p “Oh, it’s not that. I just thought you might not—"

p “Bosh! We’re all made of the same flesh and blood. Take your clothes off, idiot!" she almost shouted. “Your teeth’s chattering like a machinegun. A fine time I’m going to have with you, I can see that!”

211

p Steam rose from the wet clothes hung over the rifles. The lieutenant and Maryutka sat opposite each other by the fire, blissfully warming themselves in the heat of the flames.

p “How white you are, fish-pox! You look as if you’d been washed in cream!”

p The lieutenant flushed crimson and turned his head. He was about to say something but, noticing the yellow glow on Maryutka’s breast, lowered his greenish-blue eyes. Maryutka threw a leather jacket over her shoulders.

p “Time to snooze. Maybe the storm will be over in the morning. We’re lucky the boat didn’t go to the bottom. If the sea’s calm we may be able to get as far as the Syr Darya. We’ll find fishermen there. Lie down, I’ll watch the fire. Soon’s I feel myself falling asleep I’ll wake you up. We’ll watch in turns.”

p The lieutenant put his clothes under him and covered himself with his coat. He tossed and groaned in his sleep. Maryutka watched him without moving. Then she shrugged her shoulders.

p “A nice how-d’ye-do!" she said. “Sickly, he turns out. What if he’s caught cold? I guess they kept him wrapped in velvet at home. Eh, what a life! A fish-pox on it!”

p In the morning, when the light glimmered through the chinks in the roof, Maryutka woke up the lieutenant.

p “You watch the fire, hear? I’m going to run down to the beach. Maybe our fellows managed to swim to shore.”

p The lieutenant got up with difficulty.

p “I’ve got a headache,” he said dully, holding his head.

p “That’s natural—from the smoke and the tiredness. It’ll pass. Take some hard-tack out of the sack and fry yourself some fish.”

212

p She picked up her rifle, wiped it on her leather jacket, and went out.

p The lieutenant crawled to the fire and took some sea-soaked hard-tack out of the sack. He bit into it, chewed listlessly, dropped it, and collapsed on the floor beside the fire.

p Maryutka shook the lieutenant by the shoulder.

p “Get up! Get up, damn you! We’re done for!”

p The lieutenant’s eyes opened wide and his lips parted.

p “Get up, I tell you! We’re in for it now! The boat’s washed away! We’re done for now!”

p The lieutenant stared at her in silence.

p Maryutka stared back, then gave a little gasp.

p The lieutenant’s ultramarine eyes were filmy and vacant. The cheek that dropped heavily against her hand was on fire.

p “So you did catch cold, you gutless scarecrow! What am I going to do with you?”

p The lieutenant’s lips moved.

p Maryutka bent down.

p “Mikhail Ivanovich, don’t give me a bad mark—-

p I couldn’t learn it.... I’ll have it ready tomorrow.

p “What’re you raving about?" said Maryutka with a little start.

p “Look, Rover!... Grouse!" he suddenly shouted, raising himself up.

p Maryutka shrank back and covered her face with her hands.

p The lieutenant fell back again, digging his fingers into the sand, muttering incoherently.

p Maryutka darted a despairing look at him. The next moment she had taken off her jacket and thrown it on the ground; with difficulty she dragged the limp body of the lieutenant on to it, covering him with his coat. Then she sank down in a 213 sad little heap beside him, slow tears stealing down her thin cheeks.

p The lieutenant tossed as he lay, throwing off the coat, but Maryutka stubbornly replaced it and tucked it tightly up to his very chin. Whenever his head slipped down on to the floor she propped it up again. Rolling up her eyes, she addressed what must have been heaven:

p “Maybe he’ll die. What’ll I tell Yevsukov then? Oh, dear, oh, dear, oh, dear!”

p She leaned over his burning body and looked into his filmy blue eyes.

A stab of pity pierced her heart. Reaching out, she gently stroked the curly hair that was matted from tossing. She took his head in her hands and murmured tenderly, "You blue-eyed silly, you!”