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Rh saw a little garden surrounded by a stone fence with wild cherry and peach trees looking over it, and inside a little hut with a flat roof. Zhilin approached nearer, and then he saw beehives made of plaited straw—ului they called them—and the bees flying about and humming. And the little old man was on his tiny knees doing something to the hives. Zhilin raised himself a little higher to have a better look, and his kolodka grated. The little old man looked round and whined aloud, then he drew a pistol out of his girdle and fired point-blank at Zhilin. After firing he hid behind a stone.

Next morning the old man came down to Zhilin's master to complain of him. Zhilin's master called him and said to him with a laugh:

"Why didst thou go to the old man?"

"I did him no harm," said Zhilin. "I only wanted to see how he lived."

Zhilin's master interpreted.

The old man was very angry however. He hissed and gabbled, and his two fangs protruded, and he shook his fist at Zhilin.

Zhilin did not understand it at all. All he understood was that the old man bade his master kill all the Russians and not keep any of them in the aul. Finally, the old man went away.

Zhilin now began to ask his master who the little old man was, and this is what his master told him.

"That is a great man. He was our foremost zhigit, and has killed many Russians; he is also rich. Once he had eight sons, and they all dwelt together