golden sickle. The breeze rising on the steppe warned them that the
dawn was not far off. But nowhere was the crow of the cock heard.
Neither in the city nor in the devastated neighbourhood had there been
a cock for a long time past. They crossed the brook on a small plank,
beyond which rose the opposite bank, which appeared higher than the
one behind them and rose steeply. It seemed as though this were the
strong point of the citadel upon which the besieged could rely; at all
events, the earthen wall was lower there, and no garrison appeared
behind it. But farther on rose the thick monastery walls. The steep
bank was overgrown with steppe-grass, and in the narrow ravine between
it and the brook grew tall reeds almost as high as a man. At the
summit of the bank were the remains of a wattled fence, which had
formerly surrounded some garden, and in front of it were visible the
wide leaves of the burdock, from among which rose blackthorn, and
sunflowers lifting their heads high above all the rest. Here the Tatar
flung off her slippers and went barefoot, gathering her clothes up
carefully, for the spot was marshy and full of water. Forcing their
way among the reeds, they stopped before a ruined outwork. Skirting
this outwork, they found a sort of earthen arch--an opening not much
larger than the opening of an oven. The Tatar woman bent her head and
went first. Andrii followed, bending low as he could, in order to pass
with his sacks; and both soon found themselves in total darkness.



CHAPTER VI

Andrii could hardly move in the dark and narrow earthen burrow, as he
followed the Tatar, dragging after him his sacks of bread. "It will
soon be light," said his guide: "we are approaching the spot where I