In the dining-room it was Thaddeus Tchnichnikoff's turn to tell
hunting stories. He was the greatest timber-merchant in Lithuania.
He owned immense forests and he loved Feodor Feodorovitch* as a
brother, for they had played together all through their childhood,
and once he had saved him from a bear that was just about to crush
his skull as one might knock off a hat. General Trebassof's father
was governor of Courlande at that time, by the grace of God and the
Little Father. Thaddeus, who was just thirteen years old, killed
the bear with a single stroke of his boar-spear, and just in time.
Close ties were knit between the two families by this occurrence,
and though Thaddeus was neither noble-born nor a soldier, Feodor
considered him his brother and felt toward him as such. Now
Thaddeus had become the greatest timber-merchant of the western
provinces, with his own forests and also with his massive body,
his fat, oily face, his bull-neck and his ample paunch. He quitted
everything at once - all his affairs, his family - as soon as he
learned of the first attack, to come and remain by the side of his
dear comrade Feodor. He had done this after each attack, without
forgetting one. He was a faithful friend. But he fretted because
they might not go bear-hunting as in their youth. 'Where, he would
ask, are there any bears remaining in Courlande, or trees for that
matter, what you could call trees, growing since the days of the
grand-dukes of Lithuania, giant trees that threw their shade right
up to the very edge of the towns? Where were such things nowadays?
Thaddeus was very amusing, for it was he, certainly, who had cut
them away tranquilly enough and watched them vanish in locomotive
smoke. It was what was called Progress. Ah, hunting lost its
national character assuredly with tiny new-growth trees which had
not had time to grow. And, besides, one nowadays had not time for
hunting. All the big game was so far away. Lucky enough if one