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 will bring the direst misfortune upon the municipality and cause its complete disintegration.’” Zakhar paused a moment. The gathering was considerably stirred by these passionate words. All eyes were fixed upon the brilliant red banner, silver edges glinting in the sun, which floated in the breeze like a stream of live blood held by some magic within its proportioned bounds, suspended from the pole stuck in its groove in the square block of stone.

“Until now, I have never spoken to you about this,” Zakhar continued, “because we were secure in our peace and happiness, but it is time for me to break my silence. Turn your eyes once more upon our banner! You will note that the strong chain which holds it in place was fashioned out of one solid piece of timber each of whose rounded links is complete in itself, constructed to accept its responsibility as a unit and well able to hold its own. This chain then, represents our race, fashioned by the hands of a Benevolent Creator. Every single link within this chain represents a community, an integral, incontrovertible part of the whole and yet free within itself as if it were a link closed in upon itself, living its own life and fulfilling its obligations and responsibilities. Only the solidity of each unit assures the indivisibility and freedom of the whole. Should just one of these units weaken within itself and break, then the whole chain would be rendered useless and its united power broken. Therefore the disruption of democratic rule within one community creates a sore spot which brings on a disease infecting the whole sacred body of our nation, Rus. Woe to the community which willingly allows itself to become the focal point for such an infection without doing all in its power to resist it! It would be far better for such a community to disappear from the face of the earth and to lose itself within an abyss!”

These last words of Zakhar Berkut’s rose on a high menacing note, ringing in the ears of the listeners momentarily