"Levin, please stop, how splendid!" Vasenka Veslovsky began to beg, and Levin could not well refuse.
Before they had fairly stopped, the dogs, in eager emulation, darted into the marsh.
"Krak!.... Laska!" ....
The dogs turned back.
"There won't be room enough for three. I will wait here," said Levin, hoping that they would not find anything except lapwings, which flew up from in front of the dogs, and, as they skimmed away over the marshy ground, uttered the most mournful cries.
"No; come on, Levin, let us all go together," called Veslovsky.
"It's a fact, there isn't room. Back, Laska, back. You don't need more than one dog, do you?"
Levin remained by the lineïka and with jealousy in his heart watched the huntsmen, who were tramping through the whole bog. There was nothing in it, however, except moor-hens and lapwings, one of which Vasenka killed.
"Now you see that I gave you good advice about the marsh," said Levin. "It's only a waste of time."
"No, it's good fun all the same! Did you see?" exclaimed Vasenka, awkwardly climbing into the wagon with his gun and his lapwing in his hands. "Didn't I make a stunning good shot? Well, will it take long to get to the other one?"
Suddenly the horses plunged. Levin gave himself a violent bump on the head against some one's gun, and a shot went off. The gun really went off before, but it seemed to Levin the other way. It happened that Vasenka in uncocking his gun fired one barrel. The shot buried itself in the ground and no damage was done to any one. Stepan Arkadyevitch shook his head and laughed reproachfully at Veslovsky. But Levin had not the heart to rebuke him. In the first place, any reproach would seem to be called forth by a danger past and by the bump on his forehead; and in the second place, Veslovsky was so innocently filled with remorse and afterward laughed so good-naturedly and so con-
