"He will make a splendid leader, far surpassing even his father!" Andrii gave himself up wholly to the enchanting music of blades and bullets.

He knew not what it was to consider, or calculate, or to measure his own as against the enemy's strength.

He gazed on battle with mad delight and intoxication: he found something festal in the moments when a man's brain burns, when all things wave and flutter before his eyes, when heads are stricken off, horses fall to the earth with a sound of thunder, and he rides on like a drunken man, amid the whistling of bullets and the flashing of swords, dealing blows to all, and heeding not those aimed at himself.

More than once their father marvelled too at Andrii, seeing him, stirred only by a flash of impulse, dash at something which a sensible man in cold blood never would have attempted, and, by the sheer force of his mad attack, accomplish such wonders as could not but amaze even men grown old in battle.

Old Taras admired and said, "And he too will make a good warrior if the enemy does not capture him meanwhile.