Forty Stories - Anton Chekhov [21]
According to the predetermined plan of action, their first stop was to be at the hayfields where the peasants were busy mowing—the fields were about four miles away from Yegor Yegorich’s estate—and there they would shoot quail. At the hayfields the hunters stepped out of their carriages and divided into two groups: one group, headed by the general and Yegor Yegorich, turned to the right; the other, with Kardamonov at the head, went off to the left. Bolva remained behind and went off on his own. He liked to hunt in peace, in complete silence. Music Maker ran on ahead, barking, and a minute later he raised a quail. Vanya fired a shot and missed.
“Aimed too high, dammit!” he muttered.
Idler, the puppy, had been taken along “to learn the ropes.” For the first time in his life the puppy heard gunfire, set off a howl, and went running back to the carriages with his tail between his legs. Mange aimed at a lark and hit it.
“I enjoy that bird,” he said to the doctor, pointing to the lark.
“Go to hell!” the doctor said. “It’s no use talking to me! I’m in a bad mood! Leave me alone!”
“You’re a skeptic, doctor.”
“Eh, what’s that? What does skeptic mean?”
Mange thought for a while.
“A skeptic is a man … a man who is … a person who doesn’t love …”
“Wrong! Don’t use words you don’t understand! Leave me alone! I might do something unpleasant, something I don’t want to do! I’m in a bad mood!…”
Music Maker began pointing. The general and Yegor Yegorich turned pale and held their breaths.
“I’m shooting this one,” the general whispered. “I … I … Excuse me, this is the second time you have …”
But nothing came of the dog’s pointing. The doctor, with nothing to do, threw a pebble, which struck Music Maker between the ears, and immediately the dog set up a howl and leaped in the air. The general and Yegor Yegorich looked round. They heard a rustling sound in the grass, and a large bustard flew up. The members of the second group were making a lot of noise and pointing at the bustard. The general, Mange, and Vanya fired. Mange missed. Too late! The bustard flew over a mound and vanished in a field of rye.
“I put it to you, doctor, this is no time for a joke!” the general said, turning sharply on the doctor. “Not the right time, is it?”
“What?”
“It’s no time for a joke.”
“Stupid of you, doctor,” Yegor Yegorich observed.
“Well, they shouldn’t have brought me along. Who told you to bring me? I don’t want to explain anything. I’m in a bad mood today.”
Mange killed another lark. Vanya aimed at a young rook, fired, and missed.
“Aimed too high, dammit!” he muttered.
Two shots were heard in quick succession. Bolva, on the other side of the mound, had shot down two quail with his heavy double-barreled shotgun, and he put them in his pocket. Yegor Yegorich aimed at a quail and fired. The quail, wounded, fell in the grass. Yegor Yegorich triumphantly retrieved the quail and presented it to the general.
“In the wing, Your Excellency. Still alive, too.”
“True, she’s still alive. Ought to have a summary execution!”
Saying this, the general lifted the quail to his lips and bit through her neck with his eyeteeth. Mange killed a third lark. Music Maker began pointing again. The general flung his cap away and took aim. “Take that!” A big quail flew up, but at that moment the good-for-nothing doctor somehow got into the line of fire, being almost directly in front of the muzzle of the shotgun.
“Get out of here!” the general exploded.
The doctor jumped to one side, the general fired, but as it happened the shot was fired too late.
“Young man, that’s a bloody awful thing to do!” the general roared.
“What did I do?” the doctor asked.
“You got in my way! Who told you to get in my way? I missed the bird, thanks to you! God knows what