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... He ran beside the mare, ran in front of her, saw her being

whipped across the eyes, right in the eyes! He was crying, he

felt choking, his tears were streaming. One of the men gave him a

cut with the whip across the face, he did not feel it. Wringing

his hands and screaming, he rushed up to the grey-headed old man

with the grey beard, who was shaking his head in disapproval. One

woman seized him by the hand and would have taken him away, but

he tore himself from her and ran back to the mare. She was almost

at the last gasp, but began kicking once more.

"I'll teach you to kick," Mikolka shouted ferociously. He threw

down the whip, bent forward and picked up from the bottom of the

cart a long, thick shaft, he took hold of one end with both hands

and with an effort brandished it over the mare.

"He'll crush her," was shouted round him. "He'll kill her!"

"It's my property," shouted Mikolka and brought the shaft down

with a swinging blow. There was a sound of a heavy thud.