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With
happy
,
exhausted
faces
,
they
laid
the
old
wolf
,
alive
,
on
a
shying
and
snorting
horse
and
,
accompanied
by
the
dogs
yelping
at
her
,
took
her
to
the
place
where
they
were
all
to
meet
.
The
hounds
had
killed
two
of
the
cubs
and
the
borzois
three
The
huntsmen
assembled
with
their
booty
and
their
stories
,
and
all
came
to
look
at
the
wolf
,
which
,
with
her
broad-browed
head
hanging
down
and
the
bitten
stick
between
her
jaws
,
gazed
with
great
glassy
eyes
at
this
crowd
of
dogs
and
men
surrounding
her
.
When
she
was
touched
,
she
jerked
her
bound
legs
and
looked
wildly
yet
simply
at
everybody
.
Old
Count
Rostóv
also
rode
up
and
touched
the
wolf
.
"
Oh
,
what
a
formidable
one
!
"
said
he
.
"
A
formidable
one
,
eh
?
"
he
asked
Daniel
,
who
was
standing
near
.
"
Yes
,
your
excellency
,
"
answered
Daniel
,
quickly
doffing
his
cap
.
The
count
remembered
the
wolf
he
had
let
slip
and
his
encounter
with
Daniel
.
"
Ah
,
but
you
are
a
crusty
fellow
,
friend
!
"
said
the
count
.
For
sole
reply
Daniel
gave
him
a
shy
,
childlike
,
meek
,
and
amiable
smile
.
The
old
count
went
home
,
and
Natásha
and
Pétya
promised
to
return
very
soon
,
but
as
it
was
still
early
the
hunt
went
farther
.
At
midday
they
put
the
hounds
into
a
ravine
thickly
overgrown
with
young
trees
.
Nicholas
standing
in
a
fallow
field
could
see
all
his
whips
.
Facing
him
lay
a
field
of
winter
rye
,
there
his
own
huntsman
stood
alone
in
a
hollow
behind
a
hazel
bush
.
The
hounds
had
scarcely
been
loosed
before
Nicholas
heard
one
he
knew
,
Voltórn
,
giving
tongue
at
intervals
;
other
hounds
joined
in
,
now
pausing
and
now
again
giving
tongue
.
A
moment
later
he
heard
a
cry
from
the
wooded
ravine
that
a
fox
had
been
found
,
and
the
whole
pack
,
joining
together
,
rushed
along
the
ravine
toward
the
ryefield
and
away
from
Nicholas
.
He
saw
the
whips
in
their
red
caps
galloping
along
the
edge
of
the
ravine
,
he
even
saw
the
hounds
,
and
was
expecting
a
fox
to
show
itself
at
any
moment
on
the
ryefield
opposite
.
