his jacket； and without a word； clenching his teeth now and
then； he began binding up his head。 〃Did you take the notes？〃
he filtered through his teeth。
〃I didn't touch them； brother！ I didn't want them！ there's
ill…luck from them！〃
Chelkash thrust his hand into his jacket pocket； drew out a
bundle of notes； put one rainbow…colored note back in his
pocket； and handed all the rest to Gavrilo。
175 CHELKASH
〃Take them and go！〃
〃I won't take them； brother。 I can't！ Forgive me！〃
〃T…take them； I say！〃 bellowed Chelkash； glaring horribly。
〃Forgive me！ Then I'll take them；〃 said Gavrilo； timidly；
and he fell at Chelkash's feet on the damp sand； that was
being liberally drenched by the rain。
〃You lie； you'll take them； sniveller！〃 Chelkash said with
conviction； and with an effort； pulling Gavrilo's head up by
the hair； he thrust the notes in his face。
〃Take them！ take them！ You didn't do your job for nothing；
I suppose。 Take it； don't be frightened！ Don't be ashamed
of having nearly killed a man！ For people like me； no one
will make much inquiry。 They'll say thank you； indeed； when
they know of it。 There； take it！ No one will ever know what
you've done； and it deserves a reward。 Come； now！〃
Gavrilo saw that Chelkash was laughing； and he felt relieved。
He crushed the notes up tight in his hand。
〃Brother！ You forgive me？ Won't you？ Eh？〃 he asked tearfully。
〃Brother of mine！〃 Chelkash mimicked him as he got； reeling；
on to his legs。 〃What for？ There's nothing to forgive。
To…day you do for me； to…morrow I'll do for you。〃
〃Oh； brother； brother！〃 Gavrilo sighed mournfully； shaking
his head。
Chelkash stood facing him； he smiled strangely； and the rag
on his head； growing gradually redder； began to look like a
Turkish fez。
176 CHELKASH
The rain streamed in bucketsful。 The sea moaned with a hollow
sound； and the waves beat on the shore； lashing furiously and
wrathfully against it。
The two men were silent。
〃Come； good…bye！〃 Chelkash said； coldly and sarcastically。
He reeled； his legs shook； and he held his head queerly； as
though he were afraid of losing it。
〃Forgive me； brother！〃 Gavrilo besought him once more。
〃All right！〃 Chelkash answered； coldly； setting off on his way。
He walked away； staggering； and still holding his head in his
left hand； while he slowly tugged at his brown mustache with
the right。
〃Gavrilo looked after him a long while； till the had
disappeared in the rain； which still poured down in fine；
countless streams； and wrapped everything in an impenetrable
steel…gray mist。
Then Gavrilo took off his soaked cap； made the sign of the
cross； looked at the notes crushed up in his hand； heaved a
deep sigh of relief； thrust them into his bosom； and with long；
firm strides went along the shore； in the opposite direction
from that Chelkash had taken。
The sea howled； flinging heavy； breaking billows on the sand
of the shore； and dashing them into spray； the rain lashed the
water and the earth； the wind blustered。 All the air was full
of roaring； howling； moaning。 Neither distance nor sky could
be seen through the rain。
Soon the rain and the spray had washed away the red patch on
the spot where Chelkash had lain； washed away the traces of
Chelkash and the peasant lad on the sandy beach。 And no trace
was left on the seashore of the little drama that had been
played out between two men。
MY FELLOW…TRAVELLER
（THE STORY OF A JOURNEY）
I met him in the harbor of Odessa。 For three successive days
his square； strongly…built figure attracted my attention。 His
faceof a Caucasian typewas framed in a handsome beard。 He
haunted me。 I saw him standing for hours together on the stone
quay； with the handle of his walking stick in his mouth；
staring down vacantly； with his black almond…shaped eyes into
the muddy waters of the harbor。 Ten times a day； he would pass
me by with the gait of a careless lounger。 Whom could he be？
I began to watch him。 As if anxious to excite my curiosity；
he seemed to cross my path more and more often。 In the end；
his fashionably…cut light check suit； his black hat； like that
of an artist； his indolent lounge； and even his listless； bored
glance grew quite familiar to me。 His presence was utterly
unaccountable； here in the harbor； where the whistling of the
steamers and engines； the clanking of chains； the shouting of
workmen； all the hurried maddening bustle of a port； dominated
one's sensations； and deadened one's nerves and brain。
Everyone else about the port was enmeshed in its immense
complex machinery； which demanded incessant vigilance and
endless toil。
179 MY FELLOW…TRAVELLER
Everyone here was busy； loading and unloading either steamers
or railway trucks。 Everyone was tired and careworn。 Everyone
was hurrying to and fro； shouting or cursing； covered with
dirt and sweat。 In the midst of the toil and bustle this
singular person； with his air of deadly boredom； strolled
about deliberately； heedless of everything。
At last； on the fourth day； I came across him during the
dinner hour； and I made up my mind to find out at any cost
who he might be。 I seated myself with my bread and water…melon
not far from him； and began to eat； scrutinizing him and
devising some suitable pretext for beginning a conversation
with him。
There he stood； leaning against a pile of tea boxes； glancing
aimlessly around； and drumming with his fingers on his walking
stick； as if it were a flute。 It was difficult for me； a man
dressed like a tramp； with a porter's knot over my shoulders；
and grimy with coal dust； to open up a conversation with such
a dandy。 But to my astonishment I noticed that he never took
his eyes off me； and that an unpleasant； greedy； animal light
shone in those eyes。 I came to the conclusion that the object
of my curiosity must be hungry； and after glancing rapidly
round； I asked him in a low voice： 〃Are you hungry？〃
He started； and with a famished grin showed rows of strong
sound teeth。 And he； too； looked suspiciously round。 We were
quite unobserved。 Then I handed him half my melon and a chunk
of wheaten bread。 He snatched it all from my hand； and
disappeared； squatting behind a pile of goods。 His head peeped
out from time to time； his hat was pushed back from his
forehead； showing his dark moist brow。
180 MY FELLOW…TRAVELLER
His face wore a broad smile； and for some unknown reason he kept
winking at me； never for a moment ceasing to chew。
Making him a sign to wait a moment； I went away to buy meat；
brought it； gave it to him； and stood by the boxes； thus
completely shielding my poor dandy from outsiders' eyes。 He
was still eating ravenously； and constantly looking round as
if afraid someone might snatch his food away； but after I
returned； he began to eat more calmly； though still so fast
and so greedily that it caused me pain to watch this famished
man。 And I turned my back on him。
〃Thanks！ Many thanks indeed！〃 He patted my shoulder；
snatched my hand； pressed it； and shook it heartily。
Five minutes later he was telling me who he was。 He was a
Georgian prince； by name Shakro Ptadze； and was the only son
of a rich landowner of Kutais in the Caucasus。 He had held
a position as clerk at one of the railway stations in his own
country； and during that time had lived with a friend。 But
one fine day the friend disappeared； carrying off all the
prince's money and valuables。 Shakro determined to track and
follow him； and having heard by chance that his late friend
had taken a ticket to Batoum； he set off there。 But in Batoum
he found that his friend had gone on to Odessa。 Then Prince
Shakro borrowed a passport of another frienda hair…dresser
of the same age as himself； though the features and
distinguishing marks noted therein did not in the least
resemble his own。
181 MY FELLOW…TRAVELLER
Arrived at Odessa； he informed the police of his loss；
and they promised to investigate the matter。 He had been
waiting for a fortnight； had consumed all his money； and for
the last four days had not eaten a morsel。
I listened to his story； plentifully embellished as it was
with oaths。 He gave me the impression of being sincere。 I
looked at him； I believed him； and felt sorry for the lad。
He was nothing morehe was nineteen； but from his naivety
one might have taken him for younger。 Again and again； and
with deep indignation； he returned to the thought of his
close friendship for a man who had turned out to be a thief；
and had stolen property of such value that Shakro's stern old
father would certainly stab his son with a dagger if the
property were not recovered。
I thought that if I didn't help this young fellow； the greedy
town would suck him down。 I knew through what trifling
circumstances the army of tramps is recruited； and there
seemed every possibility of Prince Shakro drifting into this
respectable； but not respected class。 I felt a wish to help
him。 My earnings were not sufficient to buy him a ticket to
Batoum； so I visited some of the railway offices； and begged
a free ticket for him。 I produced weighty arguments in favor
of assisting the young fellow； with the result of getting
refusals just as weighty。 I advised Shakro to apply to the
Head of the Police of the town； this made him uneasy； and he
declined to go there。 Why not？ He explained that he had not
paid for his rooms at an hotel where he had been staying； and
that when requested to do so； he had struck some one。
182 CREATURES THAT ONCE WERE MEN
This ma