himself. Nikita wished to lead him farther, but Vasili Andreevich, in
his two fur coats, was so out of breath that he could not walk farther
and dropped into the sledge.

'Let me get my breath!' he said, unfastening the kerchief with which he
had tied the collar of his fur coat at the village.

'It's all right here. You lie there,' said Nikita. 'I will lead him
along.' And with Vasili Andreevich in the sledge he led the horse by the
bridle about ten paces down and then up a slight rise, and stopped.

The place where Nikita had stopped was not completely in the hollow
where the snow sweeping down from the hillocks might have buried them
altogether, but still it was partly sheltered from the wind by the
side of the ravine. There were moments when the wind seemed to abate a
little, but that did not last long and as if to make up for that respite
the storm swept down with tenfold vigour and tore and whirled the more
fiercely. Such a gust struck them at the moment when Vasili Andreevich,
having recovered his breath, got out of the sledge and went up to
Nikita to consult him as to what they should do. They both bent down
involuntarily and waited till the violence of the squall should
have passed. Mukhorty too laid back his ears and shook his head
discontentedly. As soon as the violence of the blast had abated a
little, Nikita took off his mittens, stuck them into his belt, breathed
onto his hands, and began to undo the straps of the shaft-bow.

'What's that you are doing there?' asked Vasili Andreevich.

'Unharnessing. What else is there to do? I have no strength left,' said
Nikita as though excusing himself.