The year the Caucasian captive Tolstoy was written. "Prisoner of the Caucasus" - who wrote it? Fiction
In a big village, under the mountain,
Near the sakleys, smoky and simple
Circassians late at times
Sitting - about daring horses
They start talking about well-aimed arrows,
About the villages they devastated,
And how the Cossack fought with them,
And how the Russians were attacked,
How they were captured and defeated.
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They smoke their tobacco carelessly,
And the smoke, curling, flies over them,
Or, having knocked with their sabers,
The song of the mountaineers will be sung loudly.
Others sit on horses,
But before we part,
They shake hands with each other.
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Meanwhile, young Circassian women
Run up steep mountains
And they look into the distance into the darkness - but the dust
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Lying calmly along the road,
And the feather grass does not move,
There is no noise or alarm.
There the Terek circles from afar,
Flows between desert rocks
And irrigates with unsteady foam
Highland; the forest is silent;
Only occasionally the deer is shy
Will run through the desert,
Or a herd of playful horses
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The silence of the valley will outrage.
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There was a patterned carpet of flowers
Over that mountain and over the hills,
The mountain stream sparkled below
And flowed streamily over the flints...
Circassian women ran to him,
They washed with clean water.
With the simple laughter of youth
Others on the transparent bottom
Dear rings were thrown;
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And to your thick hair
Spring flowers were woven;
We looked into the mirror of the waters,
And their faces trembled in it.
Weaving into a quiet round dance,
Eastern songs were sung,
And near the village under the mountain
We sat in a playful crowd,
And the sounds of an arbitrary song
The gorges echoed involuntarily.
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The last golden ray of the sun
It burns out on the silver ice,
And Elborus as his head
It covers him like a cloud.
..........
The mooing of herds was already heard
And the neighing of merry herds;
They are coming back from the fields...
But what is that sound of heavy chains?
Why the sadness of these shepherds?
Alas! then the young captives,
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Having lost golden years,
In the desert of the mountains, in the depths of the forests,
Near the Terek they graze sadly
Circassian fat herds,
Remembering what happened
And that will never happen!
How happiness caressed them in vain,
How it finally left
And how it became a dream!..
And there are no compassionate hearts for them!
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They are in chains, they are slaves!
Everything merged like in a muddy dream,
Without feeling the soul, he
They can already see the coffin before their eyes.
Unhappy ones! In a foreign land!
The hearts of hope have disappeared;
In some tears, in only suffering
They see their joy.
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There is no hope for them to return,
But my heart inevitably races
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To the native land. They are soul
We were drowning in a fatal thought.
..........
But the dust rose over the hills
From herds and greyhound herds;
They take tired steps
They're going home. Barking faithful dogs
It was not heard around the village;
Noisy nature fell asleep;
You can only hear the maidens from afar
The tune is sad. The mountains echo
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And he is gentle, like a choir of birds,
Like the sound of a welcoming stream:
SONG
Like a strong thunderstorm
The pine tree will suddenly bend;
Pierced by an arrow,
Like a lion roars, -
So Russian in the middle of battle
He will fall before ours,
And with a bold hand
The Chechen will take
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Golden armor
And a steel saber
And he will go to the mountains.
Not a horse, animated
Military pipe,
Neither the barbarian, confused
Sudden struggle,
It doesn’t tremble more fearfully,
When suddenly it starts to shine
Fatal dagger.
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The prisoners listened sadly
This sad song is for them,
And my heart ached terribly in sadness...
The Circassians lead them to the sakla;
And tied at the fence,
Gone. The fire crackles between them,
But sleep does not close their gaze,
They cannot forget the sorrow of the day.
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The month is pouring with languid radiance.
The brave Circassians do not sleep,
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They have a noisy meeting:
They want to attack the Russians.
There are saddled horses around,
Silver armor shines,
Each one has a bow, a dagger, a quiver
And a saber on the inlaid belts,
Two pistols and a lasso,
Gun; and in burkas, in black hats,
Young and old are ready for the raid,
And the tramp of herds is heard.
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Suddenly dust rose above the mountains,
And a knock is heard from afar.
Circassians look: between the bushes
Girey is visible, a rider!
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He forced with a mighty hand
He pushed the horse with his foot,
And a flying lasso dragged him along
Take the young prisoner with you.
Girey approached - with a rope
A Russian was tied up, barely alive,
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The Circassian jumped down with a deft hand
Cut the rope; but he
Lying on a stone - death dream
Flew over the young head...
..........
The Circassians are already jumping - just
They hid behind a steep mountain,
The midnight hour strikes a lesson.
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From death only out of regret
The young Russian was saved
They carried him to his comrades.
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Forgetting about your torment,
They, without retreating away,
We sat next to him all night...
..........
And a pale face, washed in blood,
It burned in his cheeks - he barely breathed
And, doused with mortal cold,
He lay stretched out on the grass.
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It’s already midday, right above the village,
At a light blue height,
He shone in his usual beauty.
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Merged with a lingering hum
Circassian herds - over the hills
The breath of nimble winds,
And the murmur of mountain streams,
And the singing of birds in the bushes.
Ridge Caucasian peak
Pierced the blue of the sky,
And feathered dense forest
Its jagged rapids.
Surrounded by degrees of mountains,
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The patterned carpet blossomed;
There under the hundred-year-old oak trees,
In the shadows, bound in chains,
Our prisoner was lying on the grass.
Bowing in tears to the young head,
Companions of his misfortune
They tried to revive it with water.
(But ah! lost happiness
Nobody could return it.)
...........
So he sighed and stood up,
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And his gaze was already opening!
Here he looked!.. trembled.
...He is with unforgotten friends! -
He flared up and rattled his chains.
The terrible sound says it all!!
The unfortunate man burst into tears,
Fell on the chest of his comrades
And he cried and sobbed bitterly.
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Happy still: his torment
Friends are ready to share
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And cry and suffer together...
But who is this consolation?
Deprived of tears and troubles in this life,
Who is in the bloom of his young ardent years
Deprived of what flattered the heart,
How happiness beckoned from afar...
And if the years have taken away
It's time to look for flowers, as before,
A moment of joy in hope, -
Let him not live on earth.
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So my prisoner is with his native country
I said “sorry” almost forever!
Tormented by a past dream,
I remembered her places:
Where did he spend his golden youth?
Where I experienced the sweetness of life,
Where I loved a lot of sweet things,
Where I knew fun and suffering,
Where did he, unfortunate, destroy
Holy hearts of hope...
..........
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He heard the word “forever!”
And, doomed by a heavy fate,
He was almost friends with captivity.
Sometimes with friends
He tended Circassian herds.
He looked at them like avalanches
They roll down the mountains and make such noise;
They glisten like snow lava,
How they cover the valleys;
Although he was chained,
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But I often went to Terek.
And he listened to the waves howling,
The soles of gloomy rocks are digging,
Flowing among wilds and forests...
Looked like in the height of the hills
The guard lights are shining
And how the Cossacks are around them
They look at the muddy current of the river,
Leaning on the battle spears.
Oh! how he wished he could be there,
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But the chain made it difficult to swim across.
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When is noon overhead?
Burned in the rays, then my prisoner
I sat in a cave, where from the heat
He could have gone into hiding. Under the mountain
There were herds of people walking around. were lying
There are other shepherds in the shadows,
In the bushes, in the grass and near the river,
In which the thirst was quenched...
And there my prisoner looks:
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How sometimes an eagle flies
He spreads his wings in the wind
And, seeing victims between the bushes,
The claws suddenly grab - and again
He lifts them up with a scream...
"So! - he thought. - I'm the victim
Which they took as food."
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He looked just like the bushes
Or the blue steppe, through the mountains,
Saigas, with fast legs,
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Over sharp stones, over flints,
They fly, despising the rapids...
Or like a deer and a young doe,
Hearing birds singing in the bushes,
From the rocks, without moving, they listen -
And then suddenly they disappear
Whirling up sand and ashes.
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Watched the mountaineers rush to battle
Or they gallop boldly over the river;
Stopped - horses
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They push with a bold foot...
And suddenly, falling to his bow,
They flash near the shores,
They rush - and, galloping again,
Falling headlong from a cliff
AND...
... disappear noisily in the spray -
Then they swim and reach
Already opposite shores,
They are already there in the darkness of the forests
They are hiding themselves from the Cossacks...
270 Where are you looking, Cossacks?
Look, the waves are by the river
They turned white with gray foam!
Look, the corvids are on the oak trees
They perked up and flew away,
They disappeared screaming into the hills!
Circassians lasso the traveler
They will lure you into their gorges...
And, hidden by the night fog,
The shackles will cause death to you.
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And often, driving away sleep,
In the dead of midnight he looks,
Like sometimes the Circassians through the Terek
Sails on a faithful tuluk, -
The waves are raging on the river,
The distant shore is visible in the fog,
On a stump in front of him they hang all around
His weapons are steel:
Quiver, bow, battle arrows,
And the saber is sharp, with a belt
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Tied, ringing on it.
He flashes like a dot in the waves,
It suddenly appears, then disappears...
Here he landed on the shores.
Trouble for the careless Cossacks!
They will never see their native Don,
Don't hear the bells ringing!
Already a Chechen under the mountain,
The iron chain mail shines,
The bow is ringing, the arrow is trembling,
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The fatal blow is coming!...
Cossack! Cossack! alas, unfortunate one!
Why did the villain kill you?
Why is your lead dangerous?
Didn’t he get hit so quickly?..
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So my poor captive sadly,
Even though he himself is under the burden of shackles,
I watched the death of the Cossacks.
When did the midnight light
He rises, he is near the fence
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Lies in the village - quiet sleep
Only rarely closes his eyes.
With friends - remembers
Oh dear one home country,
Sad, but more than that...
Leaving there a lovely pledge,
Freedom, happiness, that I loved,
He set off into an unknown land,
And... he destroyed everything in the region.
PART TWO
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One day, while deep in a dream,
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Sometimes he sat late;
On a dark vault without radiance
The colorless month is young
Stood and the beam was trembling, pale
Lying on the green hills,
And the shadows of shaky trees,
Like ghosts on the poor roof
The Circassian sakla lay down.
The fire has already been lit in her, -
Blushing, he, in the copper lamp,
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A little light illuminated the large fence...
Everything is asleep: the hills, the river and the forest.
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But who flashes in the shadows of the night?
Who is a light shadow between the bushes
He comes closer, steps a little,
Getting closer... closer... across the ditch
Walking with wandering feet?..
Suddenly he sees in front of him:
With a silent smile of pity
There is a young Circassian!
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Gives with a caring hand
Cool bread and kumiss,
Kneeling before him.
And her gaze depicted
An impulse of the soul, as if in confusion.
But the Russian prisoner took the food
And he thanked her with a sign.
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And for a long, long time, like a mute,
A young maiden stood.
And the look seemed to say:
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“Comfort yourself, dear slave;
You haven’t ruined everything yet.”
And the sigh is not heavy, but sad
Young sounded in his chest.
Then through the shaft it is steep
I went home along the mossy path
And suddenly disappeared into the shadowy distance,
Like some kind of grave ghost.
And only the virgins veil
Even my eyes flashed in the distance,
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And for a long, long time my prisoner
I looked after her - she disappeared.
He thought: but why
Unfortunately for me she
Bowed down with such pity?
He didn't close his eyes all night;
I fell asleep an hour before dawn.
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I went to see him on the fourth night
She also brought food
But the prisoner often remained silent,
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I didn’t listen to the sad words.
Oh! a heart full of excitement,
I shunned new impressions -
He didn't want to love her.
And what joys are there in a foreign land?
In his captivity, in his fate?
He couldn't forget the past...
He wanted to be grateful
But the hot heart was lost
In his silent suffering
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And, as in an unsteady fog, in it
Absorbed without an echo!..
It is both in noise and in silence
The sleep of his soul is disturbed.
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He is always with a sad thought
In her shining eyes
Meets the image of the eternally sweet.
In her friendly speeches
He hears familiar sounds...
And hands rush to the ghost.
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He remembered everything - he was calling her...
But suddenly he woke up. Oh! unhappy,
What a terrible abyss he is in here;
His life will not flourish.
It fades, fades, fades,
Like a beautiful color at dawn;
Like a young flame it goes out
On the illuminated altar!!!
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He did not understand her aspirations,
Her sorrows and worries;
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He didn't think that she
I came out of pity alone,
Looking at his torment;
I also didn’t think that love
Sharpened the heart and blood in her, -
And I was in terrible bewilderment...
.........
But that night he was waiting for her.
The fateful night has come;
And, driving away sleep from my eyes,
My prisoner lay in the cave.
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The wind rose at that time,
Rocked in the darkness of the tree,
And his whistle is like a howl -
How an owl howls at midnight.
The rain made its way through the leaves;
In the distance thunder rolled on the clouds;
Shining, lightning stream
Lighted up the darkness of the cave,
Where my poor prisoner lay, -
He was all wet and shaking...
..........
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The storm gradually subsided,
Only water dripped from the trees.
Here and there streams between the hills
They ran in a muddy stream
And they fell into the Terek with splashes.
There are no Circassians in the dark field...
And the clouds are already scattering,
And here and there stars flicker, -
The moonlight will soon appear.
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And there's a golden moon above him
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Floated on a light cloud
And to the top of the heavenly glass,
Playing through the blue vaults,
She held out her shiny ball.
Covered with a veil of silver
Hills, forests and meadow with a river.
But who with sad feet
Walking alone along a mountainous path?
She... with a dagger and a saw.
Why does she need a damask dagger?
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Is he really going to perform a feat of war?
Is he really going to a secret battle!..
Oh no! filled with excitement
Sad thoughts and reflections,
She approached the cave,
And a well-known voice rang out,
The prisoner woke up as if from a dream,
And in the depths of the close cave
They sit down... They've been there for a long time
They didn’t dare give free rein to words...
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Suddenly the maiden steps cautiously
She walked up to him, sighing,
And, taking your hand, with gentle greetings,
With ardent feeling, but rebellious,
The words are sad at the beginning:
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“Oh Russian! Russian! what's wrong with you!
Why are you with dumb pity
Sad, cold, silent
To my desperate call?..
You still have a friend in the world -
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You haven't lost everything yet...
I'm ready for leisure hours
To share with you. But you said
What do you love, Russian, you are different.
Her shadow is running after me,
And that’s what it’s about, both night and day,
I'm crying, that's what I'm sad about!..
Forget her, I'm ready
Run with you to the edge of the universe!
Forget her, love me
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Your unchanging friend..."
But a prisoner of his heart
I could not open in deep anguish,
And the tears of the black-eyed maiden
Souls did not touch him...
“So, Russian, you are saved! But first
Tell me: live or die?!!
Tell me, should I forget about hope?..
Should I wipe away these tears?”
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Then he suddenly stood up and flashed
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His lovely eyes
And large tears flashed
On them, like light dew:
“Oh no! leave your tender delight,
Do not be flattered by the hope of saving me, -
This steppe will be my grave;
Not on the remains of the glorious, abusive,
But on the bones of my exiled
The painful chain will rust!”
He fell silent, she cried,
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But she took courage, stood up quietly,
I took the saw with one hand,
She handed the dagger to the other.
And so, under a sharp saw
Iron creaks - it disintegrates,
The chain shines and rings slightly.
She lifts him up
And so, sobbing, he says:
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“Yes!.. captive... you will forget me...
Sorry!..forgive...forever:
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Sorry! forever!.. How happy you will be,
Ah!.. remember me then...
Then!.. perhaps by the grave
I will be hidden and desired;
Perhaps... you will say sadly:
“She loved me too!”
And the maidens have pale cheeks,
Almost extinct eyes
Confused face, killed by melancholy,
One tear will not refresh!..
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And only screams of agony are torn...
She takes his hands
And he hurries into the dark field,
Where the path lies through the cliffs.
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They go, they go; stopped;
Sighing, they turned back;
But the fateful hour struck...
A shot rang out - and just
My prisoner falls. Not flour
But death portrays a look;
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Quietly puts his hand on his heart...
So slowly along the slope of the mountains,
Sparkling in the sun,
A block of snow falls.
How amazed I am with him,
She falls without feeling,
It's like a fatal bullet
With one blow, in one moment
Both were suddenly struck down.
..........
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But the Russian's eyes close
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Death is a cold hand,
He takes his last breath,
And he’s already there - and there’s blood flowing like a river
Frozen in cold veins;
In his numb hands
The dagger still lies there, shining;
In all his senses numb
Life no longer burns forever,
Joy does not shine forever.
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Meanwhile, the Circassian, with an evil smile,
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Coming out of the wilderness of trees.
And, like a predatory wolf,
He glances... stands... without words,
He tramples with his proud foot
The dead man... He saw
That the cartridge was lost in vain
And again he runs away through the mountains.
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But then she suddenly woke up
And he looks for the prisoner with his eyes.
Circassian! where, where is your friend...
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He's no longer there.
She's in tears
Can't express horror
Can't wash away the blood.
And her gaze is as if insane
He depicted a rush of love;
She suffered. The wind is noisy.
Whistling, its cover swirled!..
Gets up... and with quick steps
I went with my head down,
Through the clearing - behind the hills
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She suddenly disappeared into the shadows of the night.
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She's already approaching Terek.
Alas, why, why does she
So timidly looks around,
Full of terrible sadness?..
And for a long time rolling waves
She looks. And a silent gaze
Shines like a star in the midnight darkness.
She is on a stone cliff:
“Oh, Russian! Russian!!!" - exclaims.
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The waves splashed under the moon,
They splashed on the shore!..
And the maiden disappears with a noise.
Only the white cover floats out,
Rushing along the dull waves:
The rest is sad and sad
Floats like a funeral shroud,
And he disappeared to the stone cliffs.
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But who is their cruel killer?
He had a gray beard.
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Without seeing the black-eyed maiden,
He hid in the depths of the forest.
Alas! that was an unfortunate father!
Perhaps he ruined her
And that lead is dangerous
Did he kill his daughter along with the prisoner? -
He doesn't know. She hid
And she hasn’t appeared since that night.
Circassian! where is your daughter? Look,
But you can’t return it!!
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In the morning the corpse is frozen
Found on foamy beaches.
He was cold and ossified;
It seemed on her lips
The voice of the former torment remained;
It seemed pitiful sounds
The lips have not yet fallen silent.
We found out everything. But it was too late!
- Father! you are her killer.
Where is your hope?
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Be tormented forever! Live sadly!..
She's no longer there. And behind you
The ghost of the fatal is everywhere.
Who will show her coffin to you?
Run! Look for her everywhere!!!
“Where is my daughter?” - and the review will say:
Where?..
1828
Staying in mid-19th century in the Caucasus, Lev Nikolaevich Tolstoy became participants in a dangerous event, which inspired him to write “Prisoner of the Caucasus.” While escorting the convoy to the Grozny fortress, he and his friend fell into a trap among the Chechens. The life of the great writer was saved by the fact that the mountaineers did not want to kill his companion, so they did not shoot. Tolstoy and his partner managed to gallop to the fortress, where the Cossacks covered them.
The key idea of the work is the contrast of an optimistic and strong-willed person with another - sluggish, lack of initiative, grumpy and compassionate. The first character retains courage, honor, courage and achieves release from captivity. The main message: under no circumstances should you give up and give up; hopeless situations exist only for those who do not want to act.
Analysis of the work
Story line
The events of the story unfold in parallel with Caucasian War and they tell about the officer Zhilin, who at the beginning of the work, at the written request of his mother, leaves with a convoy to visit her. On the way, he meets another officer - Kostylin - and continues the journey with him. Having met the mountaineers, Zhilin’s fellow traveler runs away, and the main character is captured and sold to the rich man Abdul-Marat from a mountain village. The fugitive officer is caught later and the prisoners are kept together in a barn.
The mountaineers seek to obtain a ransom for the Russian officers and force them to write letters home, but Zhilin writes a false address so that his mother, who is unable to raise so much money, does not find out about anything. During the day, prisoners are allowed to walk around the village in stocks and main character makes dolls for local children, thanks to which he wins the favor of 13-year-old Dina, daughter of Abdul-Marat. At the same time, he plans an escape and prepares a tunnel from the barn.
Having learned that the villagers are worried about the death of one of the highlanders in battle, the officers decide to flee. They leave through the tunnel and go towards the Russian positions, but the mountaineers quickly discover and return the fugitives, throwing them into a pit. Now the prisoners are forced to sit in stocks all day long, however, Dina from time to time brings Zhilin lamb and flat cakes. Kostylin finally loses heart and begins to get sick.
One night, the main character, with the help of a long stick brought by Dina, gets out of the hole and, right in the stocks, runs away through the forest to the Russians. Kostylin remains in captivity until the end until the mountaineers receive a ransom for him.
Main characters
Tolstoy portrayed the main character as an honest and authoritative person who treats his subordinates, relatives and even those who captivated him with respect and responsibility. Despite his obstinacy and initiative, he is careful, calculating and cold-blooded, has an inquisitive mind (he navigates by the stars, learns the language of the mountaineers). He has a sense of self-esteem and demands that the “Tatars” treat their captives with respect. A jack of all trades, he repairs guns, watches, and even makes dolls.
Despite Kostylin’s meanness, because of whom Ivan was captured, he does not hold a grudge and does not blame his neighbor in captivity, plans to escape together and does not abandon him after the first almost successful attempt. Zhilin is a hero, noble towards enemies and allies, who preserves human face and honor even in the most difficult and insurmountable circumstances.
Kostylin is a wealthy, overweight and clumsy officer, whom Tolstoy portrays as weak both physically and morally. Because of his cowardice and meanness, the heroes are captured and fail their first attempt to escape. He meekly and unquestioningly accepts the fate of a prisoner, agrees to any conditions of detention and does not even believe Zhilin’s words that he can escape. All day long he complains about his situation, sits inactive, and becomes more and more “loose” from his own pity. As a result, Kostylin is overtaken by illness, and at the time of Zhilin’s second attempt to escape, he refuses, saying that he does not even have the strength to turn around. He is brought back from captivity barely alive a month after the ransom from his relatives arrives.
Kostylin in the story of Lev Nikolaevich Tolstoy is a reflection of cowardice, meanness and weakness of will. This is a person who, under the pressure of circumstances, is unable to show respect for himself and, especially, for others. He fears only for himself, not thinking about risk and brave actions, which is why he becomes a burden for the active and energetic Zhilin, prolonging his joint imprisonment.
General analysis
One of the most famous stories Lev Nikolaevich Tolstoy " Prisoner of the Caucasus» is based on a comparison of two extremely opposite characters. The author makes them antagonists not only in character, but even in appearance:
- Zhilin is not tall, but has great strength and agility, while Kostylin is fat, clumsy, and overweight.
- Kostylin is rich, and Zhilin, although he lives in abundance, cannot (and does not want) to pay the mountaineers a ransom.
- Abdul-Marat himself speaks about Zhilin’s obstinacy and the meekness of his partner in a conversation with the main character. The first optimist expects to escape from the very beginning, and the second says that escaping is reckless because they do not know the area.
- Kostylin spends his days sleeping and waiting for a reply letter, while Zhilin works on needlework and repairs.
- Kostylin abandons Zhilin at their first meeting and runs away to the fortress, but during the first escape attempt he drags a comrade with wounded legs on himself.
Tolstoy appears in his story as a bearer of justice, telling a parable about how fate rewards an initiative and brave person with salvation.
An important idea is contained in the title of the work. Kostylin is a Caucasian prisoner in literally words even after the ransom, because he did nothing to deserve his freedom. However, Tolstoy seems to be ironic about Zhilin - he showed his will and broke out of captivity, but does not leave the region, because he considers his service to be fate and duty. The Caucasus will captivate not only Russian officers who are forced to fight for their homeland, but also the mountaineers, who also have no moral right to give up this land. IN in a certain sense Everyone here remains Caucasian captives characters, even the generous Dina, who is destined to continue to live in her native society.
PART ONE
GenieSSe und leide!
Dulde und entbehre!
Liebe, hoff und glaube!
Conz
Enjoy and suffer!
Be patient and humble yourself!
Love, hope and believe!
Konz (German)
________________________________________
In a big village, under the mountain,
Near the sakleys, smoky and simple,
Circassians late at times
Sitting - about daring horses
They start talking about well-aimed arrows,
About the villages they devastated;
And how the Cossack fought with them,
And how the Russians were attacked,
How they were captured and defeated.
They smoke their tobacco carelessly,
And the smoke, curling, flies over them,
Or, having knocked with their sabers,
The song of the mountaineers will be sung loudly.
Others sit on horses,
But before we part,
They shake hands with each other.
Meanwhile, young Circassian women
Run up steep mountains
And they look into the distance into the darkness - but the dust
Lying quietly along the road;
And the feather grass does not move,
There is no noise or alarm.
There the Terek circles from afar,
Flows between desert rocks
And irrigates with unsteady foam
Highland; the forest is silent;
Only occasionally the deer is shy
He will run through the desert;
Or a herd of playful horses
The silence of the valley will outrage.
Lay a carpet of flowers patterned
Over that mountain and over the hills;
The mountain stream sparkled below
And flowed streamily over the flints...
Circassian women ran to him,
They washed with clean water.
With the simple laughter of youth
Others on the transparent bottom
Dear rings were thrown;
And to your thick hair
Spring flowers were woven;
We looked into the mirror of the waters,
And their faces trembled in it.
Weaving into a quiet round dance,
They sang Eastern songs;
And near the village under the mountain
They sat in a playful crowd;
And the sounds of an arbitrary song
The gorges echoed involuntarily.
IV
The last golden ray of the sun
It burns out on the silver ice,
And Elborus as his head
It covers him like a cloud.
...............................
The mooing of herds was already heard
And the neighing of merry herds;
They are coming back from the fields...
But what is that sound of heavy chains?
Why the sadness of these shepherds?
Alas! then the young captives,
Having lost golden years,
In the desert of the mountains, in the depths of the forests,
Near the Terek they graze sadly
Circassian fat herds,
Remembering what happened
And that will never happen!
How happiness caressed them in vain,
How it finally left
And how it became a dream!..
And there are no compassionate hearts for them!
They are in chains, they are slaves!
Everything merged, as if in a muddy dream,
Without feeling the soul, he
They can already see the coffin before their eyes.
Unhappy ones! in a foreign land!
The hearts of hope have disappeared;
In some tears, in only suffering
They see their joy.
There is no hope for them to return;
But my heart inevitably races
To the native land. They are soul
We were drowning in a fatal thought.
But the dust rose over the hills
From herds and greyhound herds;
They take tired steps
They're going home. Barking faithful dogs
It was not heard around the village;
Noisy nature fell asleep;
You can only hear the maidens from afar
The tune is sad. The mountains echo
And he is gentle, like a choir of birds,
Like the sound of a welcoming stream:
Like a strong thunderstorm
The pine tree will suddenly bend;
Pierced by an arrow
Like a lion roars;
So Russian in the middle of battle
He will fall before ours;
And with a bold hand
The Chechen will take
Golden armor
And a steel saber
And he will go to the mountains.
Not a horse, lively
Military pipe
Nor the barbarian, dismayed
Sudden fight
It doesn't tremble more fearfully,
When it suddenly shines
The fatal dagger.
The prisoners listened sadly
This sad song is for them,
And my heart ached terribly in sadness...
The Circassians lead them to the sakla;
And, tied at the fence, they left.
The fire crackles between them;
But sleep does not close their gaze,
They cannot forget the sorrow of the day.
The month is pouring with languid radiance.
The brave Circassians do not sleep;
They have a noisy meeting:
They want to attack the Russians.
There are saddled horses around;
Silver armor shines;
Each one has a bow, a dagger, a quiver
And a saber on the inlaid belts,
Two pistols and a lasso,
Gun; and in burkas, in black hats,
Young and old are ready for the raid,
And the tramp of herds is heard.
Suddenly dust rose above the mountains,
And a knock is heard from afar;
Circassians look: between the bushes
Girey is visible to the rider!
He forced with a mighty hand
He pushed the horse with his foot,
And a flying lasso dragged him along
The young prisoner (with) himself.
Girey approached - with a rope
A Russian was tied up, barely alive.
The Circassian jumped down with a deft hand
Cut the rope; but he
Lying on a stone - death dream
Flew over the young head...
....................................
The Circassians are already jumping - just
They hid behind a steep mountain;
The midnight hour strikes a lesson.
From death only out of regret
The young Russian was saved;
They carried him to his comrades.
Forgetting about your torment,
They, without retreating away,
We sat next to him all night...
..............................
And the pale face is washed in blood
It burned in his cheeks - he barely breathed,
and doused with mortal cold
He lay stretched out on the grass
It’s already midday, right above the village,
At a light blue altitude.
He shone in his usual beauty.
Merged with a lingering hum
Circassian herds - over the hills
The breath of nimble winds,
And the murmur of mountain streams,
And the singing of birds in the bushes.
Caucasian peak ridge
Pierced the blue of the sky,
And the dense forest fledged
Its jagged rapids.
Surrounded by degrees of mountains,
The patterned carpet blossomed;
There under the hundred-year-old oak trees,
In the shadows, bound in chains,
Our prisoner was lying on the grass.
Bowing in tears to the young head,
Companions of his misfortune
They tried to revive it with water
(But ah! lost happiness
No one could return it).
..................................
So he sighed and stood up,
And his gaze was already opening!
Here he looked!., trembled,.
...He is with unforgotten friends! -
He flared up and rattled his chains...
Terrible sound says it all!!
The unfortunate man burst into tears,
Fell on the chest of his comrades
And he cried and sobbed bitterly.
Happy still: his torment
Friends are ready to share
And cry and suffer together...
But who is this consolation?
Deprived of tears and troubles in this life,
Who is in the bloom of his young ardent years
Deprived of what flattered the heart,
How happiness beckoned from afar...
And if the years have taken away
It's time to look for flowers, as before,
A moment of joy in hope, -
Let him not live on earth.
So my prisoner is with his native country
I said “sorry” almost forever!
Tormented by a past dream,
I remembered her places:
Where did he spend his golden youth?
Where I experienced the sweetness of life,
Where there are a lot of sweet things, I loved,
Where I knew fun and suffering,
Where did he, unfortunate, destroy
Holy hearts of hope...
...................................
He heard the word "forever!"
And doomed by a heavy fate,
He was almost friends with captivity.
Sometimes with friends
He tended Circassian herds.
He looked at them like avalanches
They roll down the mountains and make such noise;
They glisten like snow lava,
How they cover the valleys;
Although he was chained,
But I often went to Terek.
And he listened to the waves howling,
The soles of gloomy rocks are digging,
Flowing among wilds and forests...
Looked like in the height of the hills
The guard lights are shining
And how the Cossacks are around them
Looking at the muddy river current
Leaning on the battle spears.
Oh! how he wished he could be there;
But the chain made it difficult to swim across.
When is noon overhead?
Burned in the rays, then my prisoner
I sat in a cave, where from the heat
He could have gone into hiding. Under the mountain
There were herds of people walking around. were lying
There are other shepherds in the shadows,
In the bushes, in the grass and near the river,
In which the thirst was quenched...
And there my prisoner looks;
How sometimes an eagle flies
He spreads his wings in the wind,
And seeing victims between the bushes,
The claws suddenly grab, and again
He lifts them up with a scream...
“So!” he thought, “I’m the victim,
Which they took as food."
He looked just like the bushes
Or the blue steppe, through the mountains,
Saigas, with fast legs,
Over sharp stones, over flints,
They fly, despising the rapids...
Or like a deer and a young doe,
Hearing birds singing in the bushes,
From the rocks, without moving, they listen -
And then suddenly they disappear
Whirling up sand and ashes.
XV
Watched the mountaineers rush to battle
Or they gallop boldly over the river;
Stopped - horses
They push with a bold foot...
And suddenly, falling to his bow,
They flash near the shores,
They rush - and, galloping again,
Falling headlong from a cliff
AND...
... disappear noisily in the spray -
Then they swim and reach
Already opposite shores,
They are already there in the darkness of the forests
They are hiding themselves from the Cossacks...
Where are you looking, Cossacks?
Look, the waves are by the river
They turned white with gray foam!
Look, the corvids are on the oak trees
They perked up and flew away,
They disappeared screaming into the hills!
Circassians lasso the traveler
They will lure you into their gorges...
And, hidden by the night fog,
The shackles will cause death to you.
And often, driving away sleep,
In the dead of midnight he looks,
Like sometimes the Circassians through the Terek
Sails on a faithful tuluk,
The waves are raging on the river,
The distant shore is visible in the fog,
On a stump in front of him they hang all around
His weapons are steel:
Quiver, bow, combat arrows;
And the saber is sharp, with a belt
Tied, ringing on it,
He flashes like a dot in the waves,
It suddenly appears, then disappears...
Here he landed on the shores.
Trouble for the careless Cossacks!
They will never see their native Don,
Don't hear the bells ringing!
Already a Chechen under the mountain,
The iron chain mail shines;
The bow is ringing, the arrow is trembling,
The fatal blow is coming!..
Cossack! Cossack! alas, unfortunate one!
Why did the villain kill you?
Why is your lead dangerous?
Didn’t he get hit so quickly?..
So my poor captive sadly,
Even though he himself is under the burden of shackles,
I watched the death of the Cossacks.
When did the midnight light
He rises, he is near the fence
Lies in the village - quiet sleep
Only rarely closes his eyes.
With friends - remembers
About that dear native country;
Sad; but more than them...
Leaving there a lovely pledge,
Freedom, happiness, that I loved,
He set off into an unknown land,
And... he destroyed everything in the region.
PART TWO
One day, while deep in a dream,
Sometimes he sat late;
On a dark vault without radiance
The colorless month is young
Stood and the beam was trembling, pale
Lying on the green hills,
And the shadows of the shaky trees,
Like ghosts on the poor roof
The Circassian sakla lay down.
The fire has already been lit in her,
Blushing, he, in the copper lamp,
A little light illuminated the large fence...
Everything is asleep: the hills, the river and the forest.
But who flashes in the shadows of the night?
Who is a light shadow between the bushes
He comes closer, steps a little,
Getting closer... closer... across the ditch
Walking with wandering feet?..
Suddenly he sees in front of him:
With a silent smile of pity
There is a young Circassian!
Gives with a caring hand
Cool bread and kumiss,
Kneeling before him.
And her gaze depicted
An impulse of the soul, as if in confusion.
But the Russian prisoner took the food
And he thanked her with a sign.
And for a long, long time, like a mute,
A young maiden stood.
And the look seemed to say:
“Comfort yourself, dear slave;
You haven’t ruined everything yet.”
And the sigh is not heavy, but sad
Young sounded in my chest;
Then through the shaft it is steep
I went home along the mossy path
And suddenly disappeared into the shadowy distance,
Like some kind of grave ghost.
And only the virgins veil
Even my eyes flashed in the distance,
And for a long, long time my prisoner
I looked after her - she disappeared.
He thought: but why
Unfortunately for me she
With such pity I bowed down -
He didn't close his eyes all night;
I fell asleep an hour before dawn.
I went to see him on the fourth night
She also brought food;
But the prisoner often remained silent,
I didn’t listen to the sad words;
Oh! a heart full of excitement,
She shunned new impressions;
He didn't want to love her.
And what joys are there in a foreign land?
In his captivity, in his fate?
He couldn't forget the past...
He wanted to be grateful
But the hot heart was lost
In his silent suffering
And, as in an unsteady fog, in it
Absorbed without an echo!..
It is both in noise and in silence
The sleep of his soul is disturbed,
He is always with a sad thought
In her shining eyes
Meets an eternally sweet image,
In her friendly speeches
He hears familiar sounds...
And hands rush to the ghost;
He remembered everything - he was calling her...
But suddenly he woke up. Oh! unhappy,
What a terrible abyss he is in here;
His life will not flourish.
It fades, fades, fades,
Like a beautiful color at dawn;
Like a young flame it goes out
On the consecrated altar!!!
He did not understand her aspirations,
Her sorrows and worries;
He didn't think that she
I came out of pity alone,
Looking at his torment;
I also didn’t think that love
The heart and blood were sharpened in her;
And I was in terrible bewilderment...
.......................................
But that night he was waiting for her...
The fateful night has come;
And driving away sleep from my eyes,
My prisoner lay in the cave.
The wind rose at that time,
Rocked in the darkness of the tree,
And his whistle is like a howl -
How an owl howls at midnight.
The rain made its way through the leaves;
In the distance thunder rolled on the clouds;
Shining, lightning stream
Lighted up the darkness of the cave,
Where did my poor prisoner lie?
He was all wet and shaking...
...........................................
The thunderstorm gradually subsided;
Only water dripped from the trees;
Here and there streams between the hills
They ran in a muddy stream
And they fell into the Terek with splashes.
There are no Circassians in the dark field...
And the clouds are already scattering,
And here and there stars flicker;
The moonlight will soon appear,
And there's a golden moon above him
Floated up on a light cloud;
And to the top of the heavenly glass,
Playing through the blue vaults,
She held out her shiny ball.
Covered with a veil of silver
Hills, forests and meadow with a river.
But who with sad feet
Walking alone along a mountainous path?
She... with a dagger and a saw;
Why does she need a damask dagger?
Is he really going to perform a feat of war?
Is he really going to a secret battle!..
Oh no! filled with excitement
Sad thoughts and reflections,
She approached the cave;
And a famous voice rang out;
The prisoner woke up as if from a dream,
And in the depths of the close cave
They sit down... they sit there for a long time
They didn’t dare give free rein to words...
Suddenly the maiden steps cautiously
She walked up to him, sighing;
And, taking your hand, with gentle greetings,
With ardent feeling, but rebellious,
The words are sad at the beginning:
"Oh Russian! Russian! what's wrong with you!
Why are you with mute pity,
Sad, cold, silent,
To my desperate call...
You still have a friend in the world -
You haven't lost everything yet...
I'm ready for leisure hours
To share with you. But you said
What do you love, Russian, you are different.
Her shadow runs after me,
And that’s what it’s about, both night and day,
I'm crying, that's what I'm sad about!..
Forget her, I'm ready
Run with you to the edge of the universe!
Forget her, love me
Your unchanging friend..."
But a prisoner of his heart
I could not open in deep anguish,
And the tears of the black-eyed maiden
Souls did not touch him...
"So, Russian, you are saved! But first
Tell me: live or die?!!
Tell me, should I forget about hope?..
Should I wipe away these tears?"
Then he suddenly stood up; flashed
His lovely eyes
And large tears flashed
On them, like light dew:
"Oh no! leave your gentle delight,
Do not be flattered by the hope of saving me;
This steppe will be my grave;
Not on the remnants, glorious, abusive,
But on the bones of my exiled ones.
The painful chain will rust!"
He fell silent, she sobbed;
But she took courage, stood up quietly,
I took the saw with one hand,
She handed the dagger to the other.
And so, under a sharp saw
Iron will squeak; falls apart
The chain shines and rings slightly.
She lifts him up;
And so, sobbing, he says:
“Yes!.. captive... you will forget me...
Sorry!.. forgive me... _forever_;
Sorry! _forever_/.. How happy you will be,
Ah!.. remember me then...
Then!.. perhaps by the grave
I will be hidden and desired;
Perhaps... you will say sadly:
"She loved me too!.."
And the maidens have pale cheeks,
Almost extinct eyes
Confused face, killed by melancholy,
One tear will not refresh!..
And only screams of agony are torn...
She takes his hands
And he hurries into the dark field,
Where the path lies through the cliffs.
They go, they go; stopped
Sighing, they turned back;
But the fateful hour struck...
A shot rang out - and just
My prisoner falls. Not flour
But death portrays a look;
Quietly puts his hand on his heart...
So slowly along the slope of the mountains,
Sparkling in the sun,
A block of snow falls,
How amazed I am with him,
She falls without feeling;
It's like a fatal bullet
With one blow, in one moment,
Both were suddenly struck down.
......................................
But the Russian's eyes close
Death is already a cold hand;
He takes his last breath,
And he’s already there - and there’s blood flowing like a river
Frozen in cold veins;
In his numb hands
The dagger still lies there, shining;
In all his senses numb
Life no longer burns forever,
Joy does not shine forever,
Meanwhile, the Circassian, with an evil smile,
Coming out of the wilderness of trees,
And, like a predatory wolf,
He glances... stands... without words.
He tramples with his proud foot
He saw the dead man...
That I lost my cartridge in vain;
And again he runs away through the mountains.
But then she suddenly woke up;
And he looks for the prisoner with his eyes.
Circassian! where, where is your friend...
He's no longer there.
She's in tears
Can't express horror
Can't wash away the blood.
And her gaze seems to be insane
He depicted a rush of love;
She suffered. The wind is noisy
Whistling, her cover swirled!.,
Gets up... and with quick steps
I went with my head down,
Through the clearing - behind the hills
She suddenly disappeared into the shadows of the night.
She’s already approaching Terek;
Alas, why, why does she
So timidly looks around,
Full of terrible sadness?..
And for a long time on the running waves
She looks. And a silent gaze
Shines like a star in the midnight darkness.
She is on a stone cliff:
"Oh, Russian! Russian!!!" - exclaims.
The waves splashed under the moon,
They splashed on the shore!..
And the maiden disappears with a noise.
Only the white cover floats out,
Rushing along the dull waves;
The rest is sad and sad
Floats like a funeral shroud,
And he disappeared to the stone cliffs.
But who is their cruel killer?
He had a gray beard;
Without seeing the black-eyed maiden,
He hid in the depths of the forest.
Alas! that was an unfortunate father!
Perhaps he ruined her;
And that lead is dangerous
Did he kill his daughter along with the prisoner?
He doesn't know, she hid herself,
And she hasn’t appeared since that night.
Circassian! where is your daughter? look,
But you can’t return her!!
In the morning the corpse is frozen
Found on foamy beaches.
He was cold and ossified;
It seemed on her lips
The voice of the former torment remained;
It seemed pitiful sounds
The lips have not yet fallen silent;
We found out everything. But it was too late!
- Father! you are her murderer;
Where is your hope?
Be tormented forever! live sadly!..
She's no longer there. And behind you
The ghost of the fatal is everywhere.
Who will show you her coffin?
Run! look for her everywhere!!!
"Where is my daughter?" - and the review will say.
Page 1 of 5
Story: Prisoner of the Caucasus
I
One gentleman served as an officer in the Caucasus. His name was Zhilin.
One day he received a letter from home. His old mother writes to him: “I have become old, and I want to see my beloved son before I die. Come say goodbye to me, bury me, and then with God, go back to the service. And I have found a bride for you: she is smart, and good, and has property. If you fall in love, maybe you’ll get married and stay completely.”
Zhilin thought about it: “And indeed: the old woman has become really bad; maybe you won't have to see it. go; and if the bride is good, you can get married.”
He went to the colonel, straightened out his leave, said goodbye to his comrades, gave his soldiers four buckets of vodka as a farewell, and got ready to leave.
There was a war in the Caucasus at that time. There was no passage on the roads either day or night. As soon as any of the Russians leave or move away from the fortress, the Tatars (1) will either kill them or take them to the mountains. And it was customary that escorted soldiers walked from fortress to fortress twice a week. There are soldiers in front and behind, and people are riding in the middle.
It was summer. At dawn the convoys gathered for the fortress, the accompanying soldiers came out and set off along the road. Zhilin was riding on horseback, and his cart with things was traveling in a convoy.
It was twenty-five miles to go. The convoy walked quietly: sometimes the soldiers would stop, then someone’s wheel would come off or a horse would stop, and everyone would stand there, waiting.
The sun had already set for half a day, and the convoy had only covered half the road. Dust, heat, the sun is so hot, and there is nowhere to hide. Bare steppe; not a tree or bush along the road.
Zhilin rode forward, stopped and waited for the convoy to approach him. He hears a horn playing behind him - stand there again. Zhilin thought: “Shouldn’t I leave alone, without soldiers? The horse under me is good, even if I attack the Tatars, I will gallop away. Or not to go?..”
He stopped and thought. And another officer, Kostylin, with a gun, rides up to him on a horse and says:
- Let's go, Zhilin, alone. There’s no urine, I’m hungry, and it’s hot. At least squeeze my shirt out. - And Kostylin is a heavy, fat man, all red, and the sweat is pouring off him. Zhilin thought and said:
- Is the gun loaded?
- Charged.
- Well, then let's go. The only agreement is not to leave. And they drove forward along the road. They drive along the steppe, talk and look around. You can see far all around.
As soon as the steppe ended, the road went between two mountains into a gorge. Zhilin says:
“We need to go out to the mountain to have a look, otherwise they’ll probably jump out of the mountain and you won’t see it.”
And Kostylin says:
– What to watch? Let's go ahead. Zhilin did not listen to him.
“No,” he says, “you wait downstairs, and I’ll just take a look.”
And he turned his horse to the left, up the mountain. The horse near Zhilin was a hunting horse (he paid a hundred rubles for it in the herd as a foal and rode it out himself); as if on wings, she carried him up the steep slope. As soon as he jumped out, lo and behold, in front of him, on a tithe of space, the Tatars were standing on horseback. About thirty people. He saw it, began to turn back, and the Tatars saw him, rushed towards him, and at a gallop they grabbed their guns from their cases. Zhilin ran up the hill at full speed and shouted to Kostylin:
- Take out your gun! - and he thinks to his horse: “Mother, take it out, don’t catch your foot, you’ll stumble - you’re lost.” If I get to the gun, I won’t give in to them.”
And Kostylin, instead of waiting, as soon as he saw the Tatars, he ran as fast as he could towards the fortress. The horse is fried with a whip, first from one side, then from the other.
Only in the dust can you see the horse wagging its tail.
Zhilin sees that things are bad. The gun is gone, you can’t do anything with one checker. He started the horse back to the soldiers - he thought about leaving. He sees six people rolling across him. Under him the horse is kind, and under those they are even kinder, and they even gallop across. He began to turn around, wanted to turn back, but the horse was already running wild, he couldn’t hold it, he was flying straight at them. He sees a Tatar with a red beard on a gray horse approaching him. Squeals, teeth bared, gun at the ready.
“Well,” Zhilin thinks, “I know you devils, if they take you alive, put you in a pit, and flog you with a whip. I won’t give in alive...”
And Zhilin, although not very tall, was brave. He grabbed his saber, launched his horse straight at the Red Tatar, and thought: “I’ll either knock him down with the horse or cut him down with the saber.”
Zhilin couldn’t get enough space to get on his horse, they shot at him from behind with guns and hit the horse. The horse hit the ground with all its might and fell on Zilina’s leg.
He wanted to get up, but two stinking Tatars were sitting on him, twisting his arms back. He rushed, threw off the Tatars, and three people jumped off their horses and started beating him on the head with rifle butts. His vision grew dim and he staggered. The Tatars grabbed him, took him off the saddle, spare girths, twisted his arms behind his back, tied him with a Tatar knot, and dragged him to the saddle. They knocked off his hat, pulled off his boots, ransacked everything, took out his money, his watch, and tore up his dress. Zhilin looked back at his horse. She, my dear, fell on her side and lies there, only kicking her legs - she doesn’t reach the ground; There’s a hole in my head, and black blood is squeezing out of the hole—the dust has moistened an arshin all around.
One Tatar approached the horse and began to remove the saddle. She keeps beating,” he took out a dagger and cut her throat. It whistled from the throat, fluttered, and the steam was gone.
The Tatars took off the saddle and harness. The Tatar with a red beard sat on the horse, and the others lifted Zhilin into the saddle; and so as not to fall, they pulled him with a belt to the Tatar and took him to the mountains.
Zhilin sits behind the Tatar, sways, rubs his face into the stinking Tatar back. All he sees in front of him is a hefty Tatar back and a sinewy neck, and the shaved back of his head turns blue under his hat. Zhilin’s head is broken, blood is caked above his eyes. And he can neither recover on horseback nor wipe off the blood. My arms are twisted so tightly that my collarbone ache.
They drove for a long time from mountain to mountain, forded a river, drove out onto the road and drove through a ravine.
Zhilin wanted to notice the road where he was being taken, but his eyes were smeared with blood, but he couldn’t turn around.
It began to get dark; we crossed another river, began to climb a stone mountain, there was a smell of smoke, and dogs began to bark.
We arrived at the village. The Tatars got off their horses, the Tatar boys gathered, surrounded Zhilin, squealed, rejoiced, and began to shoot stones at him.
The Tatar drove the guys away, took Zhilin off his horse and called to the worker. A Nogai man came, with high cheekbones, wearing only a shirt. The shirt is torn, the whole chest is bare. The Tatar ordered something to him. The worker brought a block: two oak blocks were mounted on iron rings, and in one ring there was a punch and a lock.
They untied Zilina’s hands, put him in a shoe and led him to the barn; They pushed him there and locked the door. Zhilin fell on the manure. He lay down, felt in the dark, where it was softer, and lay down.
“Prisoner of the Caucasus” is a story about a brave officer who did not lose hope of surviving when he was captured by the Tatars.
In the middle of the 19th century. there was a difficult and bloody war in the Caucasus, L.N. Tolstoy served there at that time, so he saw everything with his own eyes.
The genre of the work is determined by the writer himself - a true story, it indicates the reality of the events described. The beginning. Life goes to his mother. Highlights:
1. Zhilin and Kostylin are captured.
2. Unsuccessful escape.
3. Zhilin’s second escape.
The denouement is the happy release of Zhilin, he finds himself in a Cossack detachment. Barely alive, Kostylin, having paid off, ends up in his camp.
The story fully and in detail describes the life of the highlanders, their customs. The narration amazes with its dynamism: everything around moves, breathes, lives, everything is real, but at the same time we are as if in a fairy tale. But most importantly - vivid description characters and actions of people who know how to endure difficulties with dignity, fight for freedom without losing their own dignity.
The story is based on a comparison of two heroes. By the way, their last names are significant. Zhilin - from the word “lived”, popular name blood vessels and tendons. This is a strong, strong-willed, calm, courageous person, capable of withstanding a lot. Kostylin - from the word “crutch”, a wooden tool that helps the lame move. This is a weak-willed person who easily gives in to despondency; he needs to be supported and guided. From the very beginning, the characters behave differently. They both don’t want to move with the barely crawling convoy. However, Zhilin is thinking about whether it is worth risking his life by getting through dangerous places on his own. This hero always thinks first, makes a decision, and then acts. Kostylin’s thoughts here (and further) are deliberately hidden from us by the author. He does not think through his actions in advance. He invites Zhilin to go together, without thinking about the consequences, and tacitly agrees with Zhilin’s proposal not to separate in case of danger. When meeting with the Tatars, Kostylin instantly forgets his promise and, seeing that Zhilin is almost in captivity, shamelessly runs away.
When both end up with the Tatars, Kostylin immediately agrees to write a letter home to be ransomed for five thousand rubles. Zhilin knows that his mother will not be able to send such a sum for ransom, so he first bargains with his captors, and then indicates the wrong address on the envelope. Zhilin says that they won’t be able to give more than five hundred rubles for it. He just wants to gain time so he can get out of captivity himself.
Zhilin commands respect even from his enemies. His “master” Abdul-Murat calls him a horseman, local residents They value him as a master who can fix any thing. Zhilin made friends with Dina, the daughter of Abdul-Murat, and makes toys for her.
In captivity, Kostylin is simply waiting for help from home, and Zhilin is counting only on himself. He prepares an escape: he examines the area to know where to move when escaping, feeds the owner’s dog to tame it, and digs a hole out of the barn. Trying to escape from captivity, he does not forget Kostylin and takes him with him. Zhilin does not remember evil (after all, Kostylin once betrayed him). After an unsuccessful escape, Zhilin still does not give up, and Kostylin completely loses heart. Thanks to a happy coincidence of circumstances (Dina’s help, the absence of the Tatars), his own perseverance, courage and ingenuity, Zhilin manages to escape from captivity.
