GOLOVINSKY. \2' 



flavour, was undoubtedly real bear's ham. As for 

 the paws, Stepan and myself baked them a la mode 

 in a little subterranean oven ; but on unearthing 

 them we could find nothing but skin and leather, 

 with bones and bony sinews, and certainly nothing 

 to eat. Even our dogs did not seem to make 

 much of them. 



In spite of the poor quality of our food, we 

 made, however, the heartiest of suppers, having 

 been strangers to meat for nearly a week ; and 

 with a storm raging outside which seemed to 

 threaten a repetition of the disastrous flood that 

 swept our cottage away last year, we slept the 

 sleep of the weary but successful. 



The next day, Saturday, was a red-letter day 

 for me. Rising rather later than usual, we tried 

 the other side of our bay of mountains, and, in 

 spite of the noisy wind, with great success. Hardly 

 had we forced our way through the growth of 

 briars at the bottom of the hill into the chestnuts 

 above when Stepan, turning round, beckoned me to 

 stop, knelt down, and aiming deliberately, fired at 

 something which the bushes concealed from me. 

 On going up to him I found that he had fired at a 

 boar standing end on to him some thirty yards oft', 

 and, as might be expected, with his extraordinary 

 weapon, had only succeeded in frightening the 

 beast. 



Angry at the luck which had given Stepan 



