Cat's Ear

　　In those time there were no Verkhnevo and Ilyinskoye iron works， not a sign of them. Only our Polevaya and Sysert. And iron was worked a bit in Severnaya too. But naught to speak of. Sysert was most in touch with the world. It was on the highroad that went to Cossack parts. You'd meet all sorts on the road， and hear all sorts of news， too. And villages thick all round.

　　In our Polevaya it was different. We were right out of the world. We didn't make much iron those times， it was mostly copper. And that was always taken to the wharf in convoys， so it wasn't easy to stop and talk to this one and that. Try it when you've got a guard watching you！ And only one village our way， Kossoi Brod. Just woods and hills and bogs all round. In those days folks here lived in a hole like blind moles. Of course that just suited the Master.

　　Aye， here it was quite， but he had to keep an eye on Sysert. So he went over to live there. Made it his main works. He sent more guards to watch the folks here， and gave all his men strict orders： “See no strangers come， and keep the folks on a tight rein.”

　　Now， what strangers would there be when our village was out of the way like that？ There was a road to Sysert， of course， but they say it was a real bad one in those days. Through the bogs it went， and for verst after verst it was just a log track. Only the Master's servants and the guards used it then. And they were mostly on horseback， so it mattered little if the road was a bad one. The Master himself came only when he could use runners instead of wheels.

　　As soon as there was a sledge track he'd be here， making up for time lost in the summer. And he'd a way of turning up unexpected. He'd leave in the evening， say， and next day at dinner-time he'd be back again. Hoped he'd catch someone. So in winter-time all knew the Master could be here any minute. But when it meant coming on wheels， there'd never be sight or sound of him. Rattling and bumping over logs didn't suit him， and he'd no liking for horseback. He was getting on in years， they say. How could he sit a horse？ So till winter came round again， folks had it a bit easier. Because no matter how the bailiff drove them， the Master would find something wrong as soon as he came.

　　But one day the Master suddenly turned up in the autumn， when the road was at its worst. He didn't go to the works or the mine as his way was， but to the bailiff. And he had all the officials and clerks called and the priests too. They were there till evening. On the morrow the Master went to Severnaya， and then the same day to the town. Rushing about in all the dirt and mud. And he'd got an extra lot of guards with him， too. Folks started asking： “What's happened？ How can we get to know？”

　　That would be easy enough nowadays - walk or ride into Sysert. But then they were serfs. A man had to find some excuse， aye， and then they wouldn't always let him go. And you couldn't slip off in secret， either， because folks were watched， held in a tight grip. But all the same， there was one lad said he'd try it.

　　“Saturday evening， when we come up from the mine， I'll get off quick to Sysert， and Sunday evening I'll be back. I've got friends there. I'll soon find out what it's al about.”

　　Off he went， but he didn't come back at all. After a bit they told the bailiff he wasn't there， but the bailiff didn't seem to care， he didn't even have a search made. Then folks got burning eager to know what it all meant. Two more went off， and they didn't come back either.

　　There were new ways in the village， too - the guards started going round the houses three times a day， counting the men to see they were all at home. If a man wanted to go to the forest for wood or to cut hay， he had to ask leave. They weren't allowed out of the village， except in parties， and a guard went with them.

　　“I'm letting none go alone，” said the bailiff. “There's three run off already.”

　　The wives and children weren't allowed into the forest either. The bailiff set a watch on all the roads. And he'd found men that were close-tongued， you couldn't get a word out of them. Well， it was clear as daylight something was going on Sysert way， and something that had the Master's overseers on the jump. Folks whispered at the iron works and in the mine.

　　“We've got to find out somehow.”

　　Then a maid spoke up， one of them that worked in the mine.

　　“Let me try. They don't count the women when they make their rounds. And they don't come to us at all， they know I'm all alone with Granny， and no menfolks. Mebbe it's the same in Sysert. It'll be easier for me to get to know.”

　　She was a clever， fearless maid. Well， a mining lass， with a head on her. But all the same it took the men aback.

　　“But how'll you go forty versts through the woods all alone， Dunyakha， ye fledgling？ It's autumn， the wolves are out. There won't be even bones left of ye.”

　　“I'll get off on Sunday，” she said. “The wolves won't venture out on the road in the daytime. And I'll take an axe， to be sure.”

　　“D'ye know anyone in Sysert？” they asked.

　　“Aren't there women enough there？” she said. “I'll learn it all from them.”

　　Some of the men doubted.

　　“What do women know？”

　　“All their men know， and sometimes more.”

　　The men argued this way and that， then they said： “It's true， Dunyakha Fledgling， it's easier for you to get away， but still it would be shameful to let a maid go on such a journey alone. The wolves'll eat ye.”

　　Just then a young fellow came up. He heard what the talk was about， and he said： “I'll go with her.”

　　Dunyakha went red， but she didn't say him nay.

　　“It'ud be pleasanter， two of us， that's right， but what if they catch ye in Sysert？”

　　“They won't，” he said.

　　So Dunyakha set off with that young fellow. They didn't leave by the road， of course， they slipped away behind the houses， and then kept on through the woods， so they couldn't be seen from the road. They'd no trouble till they came to Kossoi Brod， and there they saw three men on the bridge. Guarding it. The Chusovaya wasn't frozen yet， but it was too cold to swim it higher or lower.

　　Dunyakha looked at it all from the woods， and then she said： “Matyukha， lad， seems like ye won't be able to go with me after all. Ye'll only bring misfortune on yourself for no good， and spoil it for me too. Better get back quick before they miss ye， and I'll see what woman's wits can do.”

　　Matyukha tried to talk her out of it， of course， but she wouldn't give way. They argued a bit， and then they settled that he'd keep watch from the woods. If she wasn't stopped on the bridge， then he'd go home， but if she had any trouble， he'd come out and fight them off her. Then Dunyakha crept up closer， hid the axe well， and suddenly dashed out of the woods. Ran straight to the men crying and screaming： “Help！ Help！ A wolf！ Oh， a wolf！”

　　The men saw a maid all frightened， and they just laughed， one even put out a foot to trip her， but Dunyakha had quick eyes， she flew past still screaming： “Oh - a wolf！ A wolf！”

　　The men shouted after her： “Look， it's got ye by the skirt！ It's got your skirt！ Run quick！”

　　Matyukha got home before the watch made their rounds. They hadn't missed him. The next day he told the miners about it. So now they knew what had happened to the first ones， they'd been caught at Kossoi Brod.

　　“They're locked up somewhere， and in chains too， very like. That's why the bailiff didn't seek them - he knows well enough where they are. If only our Fledgling doesn't get caught coming back.”

　　They talked a bit more and then they went home. And Dunyakha？ She went quietly through the woods till she got to got to Sysert. Once she saw some of the Polevaya guards riding home. She hid herself till they'd gone， and then went on. She got tired， of course， but to slip past was as easy as eating pie. She turned into the woods and went through the vegetable patches， and there she saw a well quite near， with women round about it. Dunyakha slipped in among them.

　　“Whose maid are you？” asked one old woman. “I don't mind seeing ye about here before.”

　　Dunyakha felt she could trust the old woman.

　　“I'm from Polevaya，' she said， and the woman stared， amazed.

　　“How did ye come？ There's guards everywhere. Our men can't get through to you. All that tried never came back.”

　　Dunyakha told her all about it. Then the old woman said： “Come to my hut， young maid. I live alone. They never come searching. And if they do come， I'll tell them you're my granddaughter from over the river. She's a bit like you to look at. Only you're a bit broader. What do they call ye？”

　　“Dunyakha.”

　　“There ye are. My maid's called Dunya too.”

　　From that old woman Dunyakha learned it all. The Master， it seemed， had run away somewhere far off， and every week messengers came from him and rode back again. The Master would send orders， and the bailiff Vanka Shvarev read them out to all the folks. The iron works were shut up， and all the men had been sent out on the Shchelkunskoye road to dig deep trenches and pile up barriers. Something was coming from that way. Folks had been told the Bashkirs had risen， but it wasn't that at all. All the people had risen - the far-away iron workers and the villagers and the Cossacks too， and the Bashkirs had risen with them. They'd got the masters and gentry by the throat， and the people's leader was Omelyan Ivanych. “Some say he's the real Tsar， others say he's a common man， but however that may be， it's freedom for the people and death to the gentry with him. That's why that fox of ours slunk off as far as he could get！ Scared！”

　　Dunyakha learned the guards made the rounds in Sysert three times a day and counted all the men， just like in Polevaya. But in Sysert it was even stricter. If a man couldn't be found， his wife and children， his whole family， were taken and pushed into prison. He'd come running up： “I'm here， I'm a bit late， that's all.” But they'd tell him： “See you're not late the next time，” and keep his family two days or maybe three.

　　They'd got the folks muzzled all right， and the bailiff， he was as savage as a chained dog.

　　But all the same， as soon as the evening rounds were over， the men all came to the old woman's hut， and started asking Dunyakha how things were her way. She told them all about it.

　　“And we kept sending folks over，” they said， “and not one ever came back.”

　　“The same with us，” said Dunyakha. “A man 'ud set off and just disappear. They must all have been caught at the Chusovaya.”

　　They talked and talked， and then they started thinking - how was Dunyakha to get back to Polevaya？ They'd be looking out for her at Kossoi Brod， how could she get past？

　　Then one of them said： “She might go through Tersutskoye Bog to Galyan. That 'ud be safe enough， but she doesn't know the path and there's none to show her.”

　　“And haven't we brave maids too？” asked the old woman. “They aren't counted here either， a lot of them have been on Tersutskoye getting berries. They'll set her on her way. Only tell her how to go on after， so she'll not get lost， and be home before nightfall. Or the wolves may get her.”

　　Well， so the man told her how to go. First through Tersutskoye Bog， then along the River Mochalovka to Galyan Bog and that would take her to the Chusovaya itself. It was narrow there， she'd get across somehow， and after that there'd be the Polevaya mines quite close.

　　“If it should be getting late， there's less danger that way，” he said. “The Earth Cat roams from Galyan to Dumnaya Hill. She doesn't hurt folks， but the wolves are scared off if she shows her ears. They don't run in those parts much. But don't put too much trust in that， all the same， go as fast as your legs'll carry ye and try to get home while it's light. Mebbe it's just talk about the cat. Who's ever seen her？”

　　Brave maids were found， of course， ready to set Dunyakha along the way to the Mochalovka. Early in the morning， while it was still dark， they slipped past the guards.

　　“The wolves won't touch us if there's a lot of us. They'll be afeard. We'll get home earlier and it'll be better for her， too.”

　　So they set off， a whole flock of maids， chattering away. And then in a little while someone started a song. It was a road they knew well， they often went berrying on Tersutskoye， why shouldn't they sing？

　　They came to the Mochalovka and took leave of Dunyakha. It was still quite early and a sunny day. All going well. That man had told her it wouldn't be more than fifteen versts from the Mochalovka across Galyan to Polevaya. She'd get there before dark， and they'd seen no wolves at all. She needn't have feared.

　　So they took leave. Dunyakha went on alone， and right away it was worse. The parts were strange and the forest fearsome. She wasn't a timid maid， but she kept looking behind her. Well， and then she got off her way a bit.

　　While she was looking for the path again， dusk fell. And then a howling started all round. There were a lot of wolves in our parts then. Even now in autumn they'll howl right by the very village， but in those days - no end of them！ Dunyakha saw it looked bad. To find out so much and not be able to get it home！ And she was young， she didn't want to die either. She thought of that lad， Matyukha. The wolves were getting quite close. What should she do？ If she started to run， they'd go for her at once， tear her to pieces. If she climbed a tree， they'd wait underneath till she couldn't hold on any longer and fell.

　　The bog began to slope down to the Chusovaya. That was what the man had told her. If only I could get to the Chusovaya， she thought.

　　She walked along quietly， and the wolves kept following her. A whole pack of them. She'd got her axe， of course， but what could she do with that！

　　Suddenly two blue flames rose. Just like cat's ears， they looked - wider at the bottom， and a point on top. They were about fifty paces in front of her.

　　Dunyakha didn't stop to think where the flames came from， she ran straight to them. She knew wolves were afraid of fire.

　　She got close up， and sure enough， there were two fires， and between them a sort of little hump， just like a cat's head. And there Dunyakha stopped， between the two fires. She saw the wolves had fallen back， but the fires kept getting bigger and the mound higher. Dunyakha wondered to se those fires burning like that without any wood. She plucked up courage and stretched out her hand， but she couldn't feel any heat. She put her hand closer， and the fire flickered to one side， like a cat twitching its ear， and then burned evenly again.

　　Dunyakha feared a bit， but she couldn't run straight into the wolves' jaws. So she stood there in between the two fires， and they kept rising higher and higher. Got quite big. Dunyakha picked up a stone. It smelt of sulphur. Then she remembered the earth cat with fiery ears that lived in the sands where copper's mixed with gold. Folks had seen the ears many a time， but they'd never seen the cat. It moved beneath the ground.

　　So Dunyakha stood there between the cat's ears and wondered what she should do now. The wolves had gone， but how far had they gone？ If she left the fires， they'd be back at once. But it was cold standing there， she'd never hold out till morning.

　　Just as she thought that， the fires disappeared. There she was in the dark. She looked round - were the wolves coming back？ No， no sign of them. But how could she go on in the dark？ And then the fires jumped up again in front of her. Dunyakha ran straight to them. She ran and ran， but she couldn't catch them however she tried. And so she ran right to the river Chusovaya， and there were the ears burning away on the other side.

　　The ice was thin， of course， she couldn't trust it， but she didn't stop to pick a place. She cut two light staves and stated to cross. She crawled over somehow without going through， though the ice kept cracking all the time. But the staves helped her.

　　She didn't stop when she got over but ran straight after the cat's ears. She looked round about， and found it was a place she knew - Pesochnaya. It had been a mine once， she'd worked there. She could have found she road home even at night， but all the same she followed the ears. If they've saved me like that once， she thought， they won't bring me to trouble now.

　　Just as she thought that， the ears flared up high and burned bright， as though to tell her： “Aye， that's right. Wise maid！”

　　The cat's ears led Dunyakha to the Povarenski mine， and that's close by Dumnaya Hill. Over there， it was. Right by the works， you might say.

　　It was night. Dunyakha went to her hut， but carefully， so as not to be seen. Wherever there were folks about， she'd hide behind a gate post and then slip through the vegetable plots. She got to the hut like that， and heard talking inside.

　　She listened a bit and found the were waiting for somebody. And it was her they were waiting for. The bailiff had ordered Granny to be kept at home with a guard over her. That's where Dunyakha'll come， he thought， if she manages to get back. And she kept coming himself to see the guard never went away for a minute， day or night.

　　Dunyakha didn't know all that， of course， but she could hear there were strangers in Granny's hut and feared to show herself. Still， she was cold， frozen to the bone. So she slipped through the back lanes to that young fellow， Matyukha， who'd gone with her to Kossoi Brod. She tapped softly at the window and then hid herself. And he came running out.

　　“Who's that？”

　　Then she showed herself. And Matyukha， he was real glad.

　　“Go into the bath-house quick，” he said， “it's heated. I'll hide ye there， and tomorrow we'll find a safer place.”

　　He put Dunyakha in the warm bath-house， locked the door and went off to tell folks he could trust.

　　“Our Dunyakha's here. The Fledgling's flown back.”

　　They all came at once and started asking her about everything. And Dunyakha told them. At last she came to the cat's ears.

　　“If it hadn't been for them， the wolves 'ud have got me.”

　　The men didn't take too much heed of that. She was tired， they thought， she was half asleep and dreamed it all.

　　“Eat and get some rest，” they said. “We'll keep watch over ye till morning， and then we'll think where's the best place for ye to hide.”

　　That was just what Dunyakha needed. The warmth had made her drowsy， she was nearly falling of her seat.

　　She ate a bit and went to sleep. Matyukha and five more young fellows stayed to guard her. But it was night time， everything quite all round. And look what news Dunyakha had brought. Of course the lads started talking， and no so softly， wither. Well， and other folks who'd come to hear it all， they didn't want to sit mum， they'd want to say this or that， or maybe give counsel what was best to do. The village was restless， like. The guards noticed it. So they started making the rounds. Found one man missing here， another there， and five young fellows all gathered at Matyukha's hut.

　　“What are you doing here？”

　　They all made the first excuse that came into their heads， but the guards didn't believe them and started to search. So there was naught to do but get hold of stakes. The guards were armed， of course， but stakes were handier in the dark， and the lads just smashed them down. Then other guards came running up， three or four times as many. They began to get the upper hand. One of the lads was shot down， but the others still went on fighting.

　　Dunyakha had wakened long ago. She ran out of the bath-house and saw two terrible blue fires rise behind Dumnaya Hill， as if the cat were hidden behind it with only the ears showing. Just ready to spring on the works.

　　Dunyakha cried out： “Those are our fires！ The miners' fires！ Go there to them， lads！”

　　She started running to them herself. The whole village was in an uproar. The alarm-bell began to ring. People all dashed out. They thought there was a fire the other side of the hill， and all went running there. But when they came closer， they stopped. There was something fearsome about those fires. Only Dunyakha ran straight to them. Then she stopped still， right between them， and called out： “Lay hold of those men o' the Master's！ Time to make an end of them！ Other works have settled wi' them long ago！”

　　Then the guards and watchmen of all kinds were in sore straits. Because folks had gathered in a great throng. The guards tried to run， this way and that. But you can't escape the people. Many were seized， but the bailiff they let slip. He managed to escape along the road to town. All the ones that were in chains were set free， of course. And then the ears disappeared.

　　The next day all the people gathered on Dumnaya Hill. Dunyakha told them what she'd heard in Sysert. Then some of the folks， mostly the other ones， began hanging back， sort of cautious.

　　“Who knows how it'll all end！ Mebbe it's vain hopes you gave us yestereen？”

　　But others were all for Dunyakha.

　　“The maid's right！ That's the way！ What are we waiting for？ We'll go and join the folks with that Omelyan Ivanych.”

　　Then some more began shouting： “Kossoi Brod， that's where we'll go. They've got our lads shut up there. Have ye forgotten them？”

　　A whole crowd of men made for Kossoi Brod at once. They knocked down the guards， got their own men out and five from Sysert too. And they roused the Kossoi Brod folks. Told them all that was going on.

　　When they came back， folks were still arguing on Dumnaya Hill. With the young fellows away， the older ones had got the upper hand and folks were all mixed up. All they could say was： “Ought we to have killed those guards？”

　　“Served 'em right！” shouted the young ones.

　　Those who'd been shut up in Kossoi Brod were of the same mind， of course.

　　“Stop here if ye're afeard，” they told the old ones. “We'll go and win what's rightly ours.”

　　And so they parted. The older folks stopped there， to their own sorrow， and lad others under the whips too. The bailiff came back with soldiers and guards from Sysert as well. He'd soon got his heel on the folks. He started off worse than he'd been before， but then he quieted down. Must have heard something that made him think. He tried every way to make up to the old men who'd put the folks wrong， to get them on his side. But they still had weals on their backs， they'd seen their mistake. The bailiff found all he got was lowering looks. So he ran away. and no one ever saw him again in our works. Maybe he'd hidden himself well， or maybe he'd come up against good people who'd wrung his neck.

　　The young folks went straight from Dumnaya Hill into the forest. Matyukha was their leader.

　　And Fledgling Dunyakha flew away with him.

　　There's a lot of stories about that clever Fledgling， but I can't remember them all.

　　There's one I do mind， though - about Dunyakha's whip.

　　They saw Dunyakha went on living in our parts even after the Masters had caught Omelyan Ivanych and taken him to be executed. The bailiff and supervisors tried every way to catch her， but couldn't manage it. She'd appear suddenly on the open highway or by some mine， and she was always on a light bay horse， one that no other could catch. All of a sudden she'd be there， give a taste of her Bashkir whip to those that deserved it， and disappear. The ones on top would be all at sixes and sevens again， and start looking for her all over， while she'd suddenly pop up in some other place and teach some supervisor with her whip the proper way to treat folks. Sometimes she'd give him such does it would be a while before he got about again.

　　From a horse's back it's no hard matter to strike down a man with that Bashkir whip， you can kill a wolf with it if you know how. And Dunyakha， seemingly， had learned its use well， she'd give them something to remember her by for a long time to come. And always， they say， for good reason. The ones that came off worse were the mine supervisors who maltreated young girls. On those she'd no mercy at all.

　　In the mines folks would sometimes threaten that sort： “Take heed， or mebbe Dunyakha'll give ye a taste of her whip.”

　　They fired at Dunyakha many a time， of course， but she seemed to be born lucky. And then， too， folks used to say fiery cat's ears would rise up in front of those who shot at her， and hide her.

　　How much truth there was in that I don't know， for none saw it but those who shot， and how could you put faith in their word？ No one likes it when his bullets go everywhere but where he wants. And he always tries to make up some reason. The sun blinding him， or a fly in his eye， or a sudden dizziness， or a mosquito that got into his nose and bit just as he fired. That sort of thing. And maybe that was the way one of them made up the tale about the cat's ears， to cover his bad shooting. Make it all look a bit better. And so the tale started.

　　Or maybe Dunyakha was one of those that bullets can't touch. After all， the old folks have a saying： A brave man stands on a hill and the bullets fly past， a coward hides in a bush and they find him.

　　So the men managing the works could never be sure of keeping their backs clear of Dunyakha's whip. The Master himself， they say， was scared some day she'd warm his hide. But she'd got her wits about her too.

　　What sense was there in her rushing in with only her whip， when the Master always had his guards， and every one of them armed？

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