Avetis Aharonian

“ You could not do anything worse when you know the police are seeking us. Do not do that, Kurd! Even if I were set free, it would delay me. My children are suffering. They are dying of hunger. For God’s sake, Kurd,—brother, neighbor, let me go!” The Kurd was unshakable. ”

“ The superintendent went away. The prisoner stood still for a moment, pondered the words, then began to move about again. He tried to walk softly along the wall, carefully, little step by little step. And the chains rang and rang disturbing the night.
“How long has the good-for-nothing been here?” inquired the helper.
“Three days ago they caught him in Toprag-Gale. He must be a bad lot who can not sleep. No one knows who he is nor whence he came.”
“Will he ascend—it?”
“What? You mean the gallows? Of course—if they sentence him!” ”

“ Chai drew from his girdle a dagger with a handle of ivory, and held it up for his listeners to see. They fell upon their knees and examined the weapon carefully. The poor, shabby Chai had become a hero. He was a brave man who ruled his own fate. ”

“ Which was better, the sword of the Turkish official or those rusty chains of the martyr for freedom? This question which he thought he had decided long ago, came up again.
It is night—a gloomy night. A restless wind roamed under the black sky. The helper started for the prison. The superintendent had called him. His walk did not have its usual animation. The darkness was not pleasant, nor the wind either. He kept thinking of things he did not wish to think of. How hard he had tried to hide himself that morning when A— climbed to the gallows. He did not succeed. ”

“ For these mountain village dwellers, thunder and lightning, storm and cold, were not merely harmless caprices of nature. The peasants knew how sad the result might be. Why should they not be afraid and tremble! But it was lucky that the sign of the cross was sure protection against lightning; and for the snow storm there was the stable and the sakhi. ”

“ He tried to suppress this feeling which was new to him. Why did he stand there and watch him? Why did he not go away? He did not know and he did not like to think about it. He tried to reason with himself. ”

“ He has published a good many short stories and he is particularly popular among his people. He belongs to the new school of Armenian writers. The scene of a good many of his stories, is the little village where he was born.
CHAI
It was night; winter and snow. The night was so dark, so full of terror that people in the little mountain village of O— could not remember when they last saw day and the sun; bright light and blue sky. The wind blew, too! ”

“ There’s a way, isn’t there?” pointing to the rows of knouts along the wall. The light of cruel impulses shone in his little eyes.
Kli-r-r! Kli-rr-rr—Again the shuddering rattle of rusty iron. The superintendent began to meditate. He bit his lips angrily and left the room. He turned toward the cell from which the sound came, opened the circular window and roared.
“You dog of a giaour, stop rattling those chains! Keep still!”
“I’m not doing anything,” came a voice from within.
“Why do you make such a noise all the time?”
“Why? The chains—they knock against each other.” ”