The Created Legend | Page 5

to get over the hedge, and that even that is impossible for

some reason or other. It's very strange. I wonder what they can be up
to?"
Suddenly there was a slight rustle in the bushes by the hedge. The
branches parted. A pale boy ran up to them. He looked quickly at the
sisters with his clear, intensely calm, almost dead eyes. There was
something strange in the shape of his pale lips, thought Elisaveta. A
motionless, sorrowful expression lurked in the corners of his mouth. He
opened the gate; he seemed to say something, but so quietly that the
sisters could not catch his words. Or was it the sound of the light breeze
in the wavering foliage?
The boy hid himself behind the bushes so quickly that it was hard to
believe that he had been there at all; the sisters had no time to be
astonished or to thank him. It was as if the gate had opened by itself, or
had been pushed open by one of the sisters by chance.
They stood there undecided. An incomprehensible unrest took
possession of them for an instant and as quickly went from them.
Curiosity again dominated them. The sisters entered.
"How did he open it?" asked Elena.
Elisaveta, without a word, went quickly forward. She was so elated at
getting in that she had almost forgotten the pale boy. Only somewhere,
within the domain of vague consciousness, there gleamed dimly a
strange white face.
The wood was quite like the one by which they had come to the gate,
quite as pensive and as tall and as isolated from the sky, and as
absorbed in its own mysteries. But here it seemed to have been
conquered by human activity. Not far away voices, cries, laughter
resounded. Here and there were evidences of left-off games. The
narrow footpaths often led to wider paths of sand. The sisters quickly
followed the winding path in the direction from which the children's
voices sounded loudest. Afterwards all this jumble of sound seemed to
collapse, and it renewed itself in loud, sweet singing.

At last there appeared before them a small glade--oval in shape. Tall
firs edged this open space as evenly as graceful columns in a
magnificent salle. The blue of the sky above it seemed especially bright,
pure and dominant. The glade was full of children of various ages.
They were sitting and reclining all around in ones, twos, and threes. In
the middle some thirty boys and girls were singing and dancing; their
dance followed strictly the rhythm of the tune and interpreted the words
of the song with beautiful fidelity. They were directed by a tall,
graceful girl who had a strong, sonorous voice, braids of magnificent
golden hair, and grey, cheerful eyes.
All of them, the children as well as their instructresses--of whom three
or four were to be seen--were dressed quite simply and alike. Their
simple, light attire seemed beautiful. It was pleasant to look at them,
perhaps because their dress revealed the active parts of their body, the
arms and the legs. Dress here was made to protect, and not to conceal;
to clothe, and not to muffle.
The blue and red of the hats and of the dresses gave emphasis to the
vivid tones of the faces and of the arms and legs. There was a spirit of
gaiety here, a sense of holiday splendour in these naturally adorned
bodies, boldly revealed under clear azure skies.
Some of the children from among those who did not sing approached
the sisters and looked at them in a friendly manner, smiling trustfully.
"You may sit down if you like," said a boy with very blue eyes; "here is
a bench."
"Thank you, my dear," said Elisaveta.
The sisters sat down. The children wished to talk to them. One little girl
said:
"I've just seen a little squirrel. It was sitting on a pine. Then I gave a
shout--you should have seen it run!"
The others also began to talk and to ask questions. The singers ended

their song and scattered in all directions to play. The golden-haired
instructress went up to the sisters and asked:
"Have you come from town? Are you pleased with what you have seen
here?"
"Yes, it's splendid here," said Elisaveta. "Our place adjoins this. We are
the Rameyevs. I am Elisaveta. And this is my sister Elena."
The golden-haired girl suddenly blushed as if she felt ashamed that the
wealthy young women were looking at her naked shoulders and at her
legs naked to the knee. But seeing that they too were barefoot and wore
short skirts, she quickly recovered and smiled at them.
"My name is Nadezhda Vestchezerova," she said.
She looked attentively at the sisters. Elisaveta thought that she had
heard the