Chapter 159: In Exile

In Exile Old Semyon, nicknamed “Canny,” and a young Tatar, whom no one knew by name, were sitting on the riverbank by the campfire; the other three ferrymen were in the hut. Semyon, an old man of sixty, lean and toothless, but broad shouldered and still healthy-looking, was drunk; he would have gone in to sleep long before, but he had a bottle in his pocket and he was afraid that the fellows in the hut would ask him for vodka. The Tatar was ill and weary, and wrapping himself up in his rags w…