The Marian Martyrs of Rosica

128 The Marian Martyrs of Rosica “Fifty kilometers from Polock,” they said. “Some mistake!” I muttered. I now asked about Dryssa and the Dvina. They showed me the way. I thanked them for their kindness and help, and then left. I wanted to make up the wasted hours quickly. But would my horse Hurricane understand that our choice of direction was not the best? He just dragged one hoof after the other. There was no way to encourage him. I named the horse “Hurricane” because he was the slowest horse ever, and at that time, we were probably reading The Merry Demon by Cornelius Makuszynski. That is where the name came from. Noon had long past. The sky became clear. The sun was shining. I bypassed Dryssa as advised by the women and got on the road to Leonpol from the Dvina. I rode along for a long time until finally, I could see a clearing in the forest. The horse proceeded along the tracks. The sky had been red for some time, but now the blood-red ball of the sun sank below the hori- zon. The sky turned purple. I looked to see how far from the road I was, and the horse stumbled between the stumps of some cut trees. Suddenly, a runner caught on a stump and the sledge stopped. I wanted to go back. I pulled. Nothing budged. Then I pulled to the side with a different result, a very bad one. A shaft broke. I thought it could be tied back together with a piece of rope, but there was no way. With a piece of rope, you can tie up your pants to avoid a mishap if you are a pessimist and don’t trust both your belt and your suspenders. But you cannot tie a shaft together with a rope. What to do? I unhitched the horse. That much I already had learned to do. I put a horse blanket on him, and I left the sledge with the fur blanket, along with all my possessions, in the middle of nowhere. I didn’t intend to spend the night in the forest. We went on. I was going in front and the horse behind me as I was leading it by its bridle. The forest would end soon. A vil- lage was in front of us. The chimneys were smoking. People were cooking their dinners. Hurricane neighed and trotted a lit-