Book contents
- Frontmatter
- Contents
- Acknowledgements
- Note on Russian Names
- Map
- Introduction
- Death Tramples upon Death
- Private Maxim Kuzhel Has the Floor
- The Blaze Spreads and Rages
- On the River Kuban
- The Black Epaulette
- The Conquerors’ Banquet
- Bitter Hangover
- Etudes
- The Town of Klyukvin
- The Village of Khomutovo
- Might Is Right
- Glossary
On the River Kuban
Published online by Cambridge University Press: 23 February 2022
- Frontmatter
- Contents
- Acknowledgements
- Note on Russian Names
- Map
- Introduction
- Death Tramples upon Death
- Private Maxim Kuzhel Has the Floor
- The Blaze Spreads and Rages
- On the River Kuban
- The Black Epaulette
- The Conquerors’ Banquet
- Bitter Hangover
- Etudes
- The Town of Klyukvin
- The Village of Khomutovo
- Might Is Right
- Glossary
Summary
Revolution in Russia –
storms thunder and rain beats down
all over the land.
Between two seas, like a panther, crouched the Caucasus.
At one time, nomadic hordes had travelled the roads of the Caucasus; the barbarian’s stone club had battered Iranian and Byzantine culture, and the Mongol's mount had toppled the millennia-old idols of the East. From sea to sea flew the victorious banners of Persian rulers and despots. The hosts of Tamerlane swept small nations with them as a torrent sweeps away stones, and rolled over the mountain ranges. The Arab scimitar reached out as far as the sumptuous splendour of the cities of Transcaucasia. The teachings of fanatics and pagan prophets lashed the country like a rampant plague and toppled the citadels of Islam and Christianity, built up over hundreds of years. For centuries the earth groaned, stones flew from horses’ hooves, numberless hordes roared, stone cannonballs whistled, and fortress walls crashed down as a blind surge of blood swept away whole nations and trampled feasting kingdoms underfoot.
Hard by the Caucasus lay the fat and lazy Kuban.
At one time the Black Sea and Nogai steppes were uninhabited. Over the green open plains herds of proud wild horses roamed free, neighing and whinnying as they sought patches of their favourite grasses. Above the clouds grey eagles glided alone, and from on high fell on their prey faster than a blade falling on a doomed head. Along the rivers and lake shores here and there rose smoke from the encampments of bronze-skinned nomads who drove their numberless flocks of sheep from one place to another. Occasionally a raiding band of brigands would fly past, vying with the wind. And from one camp to the next with a drowsy tinkle of bells a caravan of slaves would make its way, the property of some Oriental trader, with rouged cheeks, painted nails and teeth, and beard curled into tight ringlets.
The years raced by like herds of wild boar.
At one time the Cossack desperadoes led their Cossack lives by the Don and the Dnieper rapids. They lived a life of freedom: they sowed when they wanted, and did not go hungry, wove when they wanted, without going naked; fished the meres and backwaters, hunted game in the steppe, drank wine and waged war.
- Type
- Chapter
- Information
- Russia Washed in BloodA Novel in Fragments, pp. 65 - 94Publisher: Anthem PressPrint publication year: 2020