PART I
5. CHAPTER V
(continued)
"Give us a song, mates," shouted someone in the cart and everyone in
the cart joined in a riotous song, jingling a tambourine and
whistling. The woman went on cracking nuts and laughing.
. . . He ran beside the mare, ran in front of her, saw her being
whipped across the eyes, right in the eyes! He was crying, he felt
choking, his tears were streaming. One of the men gave him a cut with
the whip across the face, he did not feel it. Wringing his hands and
screaming, he rushed up to the grey-headed old man with the grey
beard, who was shaking his head in disapproval. One woman seized him
by the hand and would have taken him away, but he tore himself from
her and ran back to the mare. She was almost at the last gasp, but
began kicking once more.
"I'll teach you to kick," Mikolka shouted ferociously. He threw down
the whip, bent forward and picked up from the bottom of the cart a
long, thick shaft, he took hold of one end with both hands and with an
effort brandished it over the mare.
"He'll crush her," was shouted round him. "He'll kill her!"
"It's my property," shouted Mikolka and brought the shaft down with a
swinging blow. There was a sound of a heavy thud.
"Thrash her, thrash her! Why have you stopped?" shouted voices in the
crowd.
And Mikolka swung the shaft a second time and it fell a second time on
the spine of the luckless mare. She sank back on her haunches, but
lurched forward and tugged forward with all her force, tugged first on
one side and then on the other, trying to move the cart. But the six
whips were attacking her in all directions, and the shaft was raised
again and fell upon her a third time, then a fourth, with heavy
measured blows. Mikolka was in a fury that he could not kill her at
one blow.
"She's a tough one," was shouted in the crowd.
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