the kettles, he drew out his father's travelling kettle and went with
it to the cook of their kuren, who was sleeping beside two big
cauldrons, holding about ten pailfuls, under which the ashes still
glowed. Glancing into them, he was amazed to find them empty. It must
have required supernatural powers to eat it all; the more so, as their
kuren numbered fewer than the others. He looked into the cauldron of
the other kurens--nothing anywhere. Involuntarily the saying recurred
to his mind, "The Zaporozhtzi are like children: if there is little
they eat it, if there is much they leave nothing." What was to be
done? There was, somewhere in the waggon belonging to his father's
band, a sack of white bread, which they had found when they pillaged
the bakery of the monastery. He went straight to his father's waggon,
but it was not there. Ostap had taken it and put it under his head;
and there he lay, stretched out on the ground, snoring so that the
whole plain rang again. Andrii seized the sack abruptly with one hand
and gave it a jerk, so that Ostap's head fell to the ground. The elder
brother sprang up in his sleep, and, sitting there with closed eyes,
shouted at the top of his lungs, "Stop them! Stop the cursed Lyakhs!
Catch the horses! catch the horses!"--"Silence! I'll kill you,"
shouted Andrii in terror, flourishing the sack over him. But Ostap did
not continue his speech, sank down again, and gave such a snore that
the grass on which he lay waved with his breath.

Andrii glanced timidly on all sides to see if Ostap's talking in his
sleep had waked any of the Cossacks. Only one long-locked head was
raised in the adjoining kuren, and after glancing about, was dropped
back on the ground. After waiting a couple of minutes he set out with
his load. The Tatar woman was lying where he had left her, scarcely
breathing. "Come, rise up. Fear not, all are sleeping. Can you take
one of these loaves if I cannot carry all?" So saying, he swung the