When they reached the second marsh, which was fairly large, and

would inevitably take some time to shoot over, Levin tried to

persuade them to pass it by. But Veslovsky again overpersuaded

him. Again, as the marsh was narrow, Levin, like a good host,

remained with the carriage.

Krak made straight for some clumps of sedge. Vassenka Veslovsky

was the first to run after the dog. Before Stepan Arkadyevitch

had time to come up, a grouse flew out. Veslovsky missed it and

it flew into an unmown meadow. This grouse was left for

Veslovsky to follow up. Krak found it again and pointed, and

Veslovsky shot it and went back to the carriage. "Now you go and

I'll stay with the horses," he said.

Levin had begun to feel the pangs of a sportsman's envy. He

handed the reins to Veslovsky and walked into the marsh.

Laska, who had been plaintively whining and fretting against the

injustice of her treatment, flew straight ahead to a hopeful

place that Levin knew well, and that Krak had not yet come upon.

"Why don't you stop her?" shouted Stepan Arkadyevitch.

"She won't scare them," answered Levin, sympathizing with his

bitch's pleasure and hurrying after her.

As she came nearer and nearer to the familiar breeding places

there was more and more earnestness in Laska's exploration. A

little marsh bird did not divert her attention for more than an

instant. She made one circuit round the clump of reeds, was

beginning a second, and suddenly quivered with excitement and

became motionless.

"Come, come, Stiva!" shouted Levin, feeling his heart beginning

to beat more violently; and all of a sudden, as though some sort

of shutter had been drawn back from his straining ears, all

sounds, confused but loud, began to beat on his hearing, losing

all sense of distance. He heard the steps of Stepan

Arkadyevitch, mistaking them for the tramp of the horses in the

distance; he heard the brittle sound of the twigs on which he had

trodden, taking this sound for the flying of a grouse. He heard

too, not far behind him, a splashing in the water, which he could

not explain to himself.

Picking his steps, he moved up to the dog.

"Fetch it!"

Not a grouse but a snipe flew up from beside the dog. Levin had

lifted his gun, but at the very instant when he was taking aim,

the sound of splashing grew louder, came closer, and was joined

with the sound of Veslovsky's voice, shouting something with

strange loudness. Levin saw he had his gun pointed behind the

snipe, but still he fired.




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