'Ever seen as fine a lad ?' his eyes, looking from side to side, seemed to say.

The elegant horse with its silver ornaments and trappings, the weapons, and the handsome Cossack himself attracted the attention of everyone in the square.

Nazarka, lean and short, was much less well dressed.

As he rode past the old men, Lukashka paused and raised his curly white sheepskin cap above his closely cropped black head.
'Well, have you carried off many Nogay horses ?' asked a lean old man with a frowning, lowering look.
'Have you counted them, Grandad, that you ask ?' replied Lukashka, turning away.
'That's all very well, but you need not take my lad along with you,' the old man muttered with a still darker frown.
'Just see the old devil, he knows everything,' muttered Lukashka to himself, and a worried expression came over his face; but then, noticing a corner where a number of Cossack girls were standing, he turned his horse towards them.
'Good evening, girls!' he shouted in his powerful, resonant voice, suddenly checking his horse.

'You've grown old without me, you witches!' and he laughed.
'Good evening, Lukashka! Good evening, laddie!' the merry voices answered.