They were taking fifty-four hounds, with six hunt attendants andwhippers-in. Besides the family, there were eight borzoi kennelmen andmore than forty borzois, so that, with the borzois on the leashbelonging to members of the family, there were about a hundred andthirty dogs and twenty horsemen.

　　Each dog knew its master and its call. Each man in the hunt knew hisbusiness. his place, what he had to do. As soon as they had passed thefence they all spread out evenly and quietly, without noise or talk,along the road and field leading to the Otradnoe covert.

　　The horses stepped over the field as over a thick carpet, now andthen splashing into puddles as they crossed a road. The misty skystill seemed to descend evenly and imperceptibly toward the earth, theair was still, warm, and silent. Occasionally the whistle of ahuntsman, the snort of a horse, the crack of a whip, or the whine of astraggling hound could be heard.

　　When they had gone a little less than a mile, five more riderswith dogs appeared out of the mist, approaching the Rostovs. Infront rode a fresh-looking, handsome old man with a large graymustache.

　　"Good morning, Uncle!" said Nicholas, when the old man drew near.

　　"That's it. Come on!... I was sure of it," began "Uncle." (He wasa distant relative of the Rostovs', a man of small means, and theirneighbor.) "I knew you wouldn't be able to resist it and it's a goodthing you're going. That's it! Come on! (This was "Uncle's" favoriteexpression.) "Take the covert at once, for my Girchik says the Ilaginsare at Korniki with their hounds. That's it. Come on!... They'lltake the cubs from under your very nose."

　　"That's where I'm going. Shall we join up our packs?" askedNicholas.

　　The hounds were joined into one pack, and "Uncle" and Nicholasrode on side by side. Natasha, muffled up in shawls which did not hideher eager face and shining eyes, galloped up to them. She was followedby Petya who always kept close to her, by Michael, a huntsman, andby a groom appointed to look after her. Petya, who was laughing,whipped and pulled at his horse. Natasha sat easily and confidently onher black Arabchik and reined him in without effort with a firm hand.

　　"Uncle" looked round disapprovingly at Petya and Natasha. He did notlike to combine frivolity with the serious business of hunting.

　　"Good morning, Uncle! We are going too!" shouted Petya.

　　"Good morning, good morning! But don't go overriding the hounds,"said "Uncle" sternly.