Lukashka went back to his horse and Olenin followed him.

‘We must get a hay-cart,’ said Lukashka, ‘or they will be killing some of us. There behind that mound is a Nogay cart with a load of hay.

’

The cornet listened to him and the corporal agreed. The cart of hay was fetched, and the Cossacks, hiding behind it, pushed it forward. Olenin rode up a hillock from whence he could see everything. The hay-cart moved on and the Cossacks crowded together behind it. The Cossacks advanced, but the Chechens, of whom there were nine, sat with their knees in a row and did not fire.

All was quiet. Suddenly from the Chechens arose the sound of a mournful song, something like Daddy Eroshka’s ‘Ay day, dalalay.’