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Rh Zhilin, however, that he was ordering him to come somewhither.

Zhilin followed him, still wearing the kolodka. He limped all the way, to walk was impossible, as he had constantly to twist his foot to one side. So Zhilin followed the Nogaets outside. He saw the Tatar village—ten houses, with their mosque which had a tower. Before one house stood three saddled horses. A tiny boy was holding their bridles. All at once the swarthy man came leaping out of his house, and waved his hand to Zhilin to signify to him to approach. The Tatar was smiling, jabbering after his fashion, and quickly disappeared into the house again. Zhilin entered the house. The living-room was a good one, the walls were of smoothly-polished clay. Variegated pillows were piled up against the front wall, rich carpets hung up at the entrance on each side; arms of various sorts—pistols, shashki, all of silver—were hanging on the carpets. In one corner was a little stove level with the ground. The earthen floor was as clean as a threshing-floor, the front corner was all covered with felt, on the felt were carpets, and on the carpets soft cushions. And on the carpets, in nothing but their bashmaks, sat the Tatars—there were five of them, the red-bearded man, the swarthy man, and three guests. Soft bulging cushions had been placed behind the backs of them all, and in front of them, on a small platter, were boltered pancakes, beef distributed in little cups, and the Tatar beverage—buza —in a kuvshinchik. They ate with their hands, and all their hands were in the meat.