Doctor Zhivago

PART TWELVE.
ROWAN IN SUGAR

1

Families of the partisans have long followed the general army on carts, with children and belongings. Behind the tail of a refugee convoy, quite behind, drove countless herds of cattle, mostly cows, several thousand heads.
Along with the wives of the partisans, a new face appeared in the camp, soldier of Zlydarikha or Kubarikha, cattle doctor, veterinarian, and in secret also the sorcerer.
She wore a hat with a pie, put on sideways, and a pea overcoat of Scottish royal riflemen from English uniform supplies to the Supreme Ruler, and assured, that these things she altered from a prison cap and a dressing gown, and that the Reds allegedly freed her from Kezhemskaya central, where it is not known what Kolchak was holding.
At this time, the partisans stood in a new place.
It was supposed, that it will be a short-term parking, until they explore the surroundings and find places for a longer and more stable wintering. But later, circumstances turned out differently and forced the partisans to stay here and winter..
This new camp was nothing like the recently abandoned Fox Otok. It was a continuous forest, impassable, taiga. One way, away from road and camp, there was no end to it. In the early days, while the army was breaking a new bivouac, and it got a job, Yuri Andreevich had more leisure time. He went deep into the forest in several directions in order to survey it and was convinced, how easy it is to get lost in it. Two corners caught his attention and was remembered by him on this first round..
At the exit from the camp and from the forest, which was now naked in the autumn and all can be seen through, as if a gate had been opened into its emptiness, grew up lonely, beautiful, the only one of all the trees that has preserved unopened leaves rusty red-headed mountain ash. It grew on a hill above a low swampy hummock and stretched up, to the very sky, into the dark lead of pre-winter bad weather, the flatly expanding shields of their hard bursting berries. Winter birdies with bright, like frosty dawns, plumage, bullfinches and tits, sat on a mountain ash, slow, with a choice pecked large berries and, throwing up the heads and stretching the necks, had difficulty swallowing them.
Some kind of living closeness was wound between the birds and the tree. As if the rowan saw it all, was stubborn for a long time, and then I gave up and, taking pity on the birds, conceded, unbuttoned and gave them breasts, like a mother to a baby. "What, breakwater, can you do it. Well, eat, eat me. Feed ". And grinned.
Another place in the forest was even more wonderful.
It was on a hill. This hill, kind of shihan, dropped abruptly from one edge. It seemed, below, under the cliff, something else was supposed, than upstairs, - river or ravine or deaf, unmown grass overgrown meadow. However, beneath it was a repetition of the same, what's upstairs, but only at dizzying depths, on another, treetops under the feet of the departed, dropping level. probably, it was a consequence of the collapse.
Exactly this harsh, subcloud, bogatyr forest, somehow stumbled, all as it is, flew down and had to fall into tartarars, through the ground, but at the decisive moment he miraculously stayed on the ground and behold, purposeful and unharmed, visible and noise below.
But not this, another feature was the remarkable forest upland. All of it was locked along the edge by sheer, side by side granite blocks. They looked like flat hewn slabs of prehistoric dolmens.. When Yuri Andreevich first came to this site, he was ready to swear, that this place with stones is not at all natural, and bears the marks of human hands. There could have been some pagan temple of unknown idolaters in ancient times, the place of their rites and sacrifices.
At this place, on a cold, cloudy morning, the death sentence was carried out for the eleven most guilty in the conspiracy case and two orderlies for the moonshiners.
Twenty people most devoted to the revolution, partisans with a nucleus from the special guard of the headquarters, brought them here. The convoy closed in a semicircle around the condemned and, taking rifles in hand, with a quick pushing step pushed, drove them into the rocky corner of the site, whence they had no exit, except jumping into the abyss.
Interrogations, a long stay in custody and the experience of humiliation deprived them of their human appearance. They have overgrown, blackened, were haggard and scary, as ghosts.
They were disarmed at the very beginning of the investigation.. It never occurred to anyone to feel them a second time before being executed.. It seemed to be too mean, mockery of people before close death.
Suddenly, walking next to Vdovichenka, his friend and the same, How is he, the old ideological anarchist Rzhanitsky fired three shots at the chain of, aiming at Sivoblyuya. Rzhanitsky was an excellent shooter, but his hand was trembling with excitement, and he missed.
Again, the same delicacy and pity for the former comrades did not allow the guard to pounce on Rzhanitsky or respond with a premature volley., to the general team, on his attempt. Rzhanitsky still had three unused charges, but, excited, may be, forgetting about them, and annoyed by the miss, he smacked Browning on the rocks. The blow discharges the Browning for the fourth time, wounding in the leg of the condemned Pachkoli.
The orderly Paccola screamed, grabbed a leg and fell, often, often squealing in pain. The closest to him Pafnutkin and Gorazdykh raised, grabbed him by the arms and dragged him, so that comrades do not trample him in the comrades, because no one remembered themselves anymore. Paccola walked to the rocky edge, where were the suicide bombers driven, bouncing, lame, unable to step on his injured leg and shouting non-stop. His inhuman screams were infectious.
As on signal, everyone lost control of themselves. Something unimaginable has begun. Swearing fell, pleas were heard, complaints, curses were heard.
Teenager Galuzin, having thrown off the yellow-knot pealist's cap, which he still wore, got down on my knees and so, without getting up from them, crawling backward in the crowd to the terrible stones. He often bowed to the ground to the escort, cried bitterly and begged them half unconsciously, singsong:
- To blame, brothers, have mercy, no more. Don't lose.
Don't kill. I haven't lived yet, young to die. I would live more, mommy, see my mom one more time. Sorry, brothers, have mercy. I will kiss your feet. I will carry water for you. Oh trouble, trouble, - disappeared, mamenka, mamenka.
From the middle they lamented, you couldn't see who:
- Nice comrades, good! How is it? Wake up.
Together in two wars blood was shed. For one thing stood, fought. Have pity, let go. We will not forget the good of your age, we deserve, we will prove it. Al you deaf, why don't you answer? There is no cross on you!
Gray-haired shouted:
- Oh you. Judas the seller! What traitors we are against you? You yourself, dog, thrice traitor, to strangle her!
I swore allegiance to my king, killed his lawful king, swore allegiance to us, betrayed. Kiss your damn Forest, not yet betrayed. Betray.
Vdovichenko at the brink of the grave remained true to himself. Holding his head high with gray flowing hair, he's loud, publicly, like a communard to a communard, turned to Rzhanitsky.
- Do not humiliate yourself, Boniface! Your protest will not reach them.
These new guardsmen won't understand you, these shoulder masters of the new dungeon. But don't lose heart. History will figure it out.
The offspring will nail the bourbons to the pillory of the commissar and their dirty work. We die martyred ideas at the dawn of the world revolution. Long live the spirit revolution. Long live global anarchy.
Volley of twenty rifles, produced by some silent, team caught by arrows alone, mowed half of the convicts, most to death. The rest were shot with a second volley.. The boy twitched the longest, Teresha Galuzin, but he eventually froze, stretched out without moving.

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