'It will make a fat pilau.' Nazarka shuddered as he looked at the bird.
'I say, Lukashka, that fiend will be sending us to the ambush again tonight,' he said, taking up the bird.

(He was alluding to the corporal.) 'He has sent Fomushkin to get wine, and it ought to be his turn.

He always puts it on us.' Lukashka went whistling along the cordon.
'Take the string with you,' he shouted.
Nazirka obeyed.
'I'll give him a bit of my mind today, I really will,' continued Nazarka.

'Let's say we won't go; we're tired out and there's an end of it! No, really, you tell him, he'll listen to you.

It's too bad!' 'Get along with you! What a thing to make a fuss about!' said Lukashka, evidently thinking of something else.