| PART I
5. CHAPTER V
 (continued)"Give us a song, mates," shouted someone in the cart and everyone in
 the cart joined in a riotous song, jingling a tambourine and
 whistling. The woman went on cracking nuts and laughing. . . . He ran beside the mare, ran in front of her, saw her being
 whipped across the eyes, right in the eyes! He was crying, he felt
 choking, his tears were streaming. One of the men gave him a cut with
 the whip across the face, he did not feel it. Wringing his hands and
 screaming, he rushed up to the grey-headed old man with the grey
 beard, who was shaking his head in disapproval. One woman seized him
 by the hand and would have taken him away, but he tore himself from
 her and ran back to the mare. She was almost at the last gasp, but
 began kicking once more. "I'll teach you to kick," Mikolka shouted ferociously. He threw down
 the whip, bent forward and picked up from the bottom of the cart a
 long, thick shaft, he took hold of one end with both hands and with an
 effort brandished it over the mare. "He'll crush her," was shouted round him. "He'll kill her!" "It's my property," shouted Mikolka and brought the shaft down with a
 swinging blow. There was a sound of a heavy thud. "Thrash her, thrash her! Why have you stopped?" shouted voices in the
 crowd. And Mikolka swung the shaft a second time and it fell a second time on
 the spine of the luckless mare. She sank back on her haunches, but
 lurched forward and tugged forward with all her force, tugged first on
 one side and then on the other, trying to move the cart. But the six
 whips were attacking her in all directions, and the shaft was raised
 again and fell upon her a third time, then a fourth, with heavy
 measured blows. Mikolka was in a fury that he could not kill her at
 one blow. "She's a tough one," was shouted in the crowd. |