Chapter 3

           

           Theweatherwasalreadygrowingwintryandmorningfrostscongealedanearthsaturatedbyautumnrains.Theverdurehadthickenedanditsbrightgreenstoodoutsharplyagainstthebrownishstripsofwinterryetroddendownbythecattle,andagainstthepale-yellowstubbleofthespringbuckwheat.Thewoodedravinesandthecopses,whichattheendofAugusthadstillbeengreenislandsamidblackfieldsandstubble,hadbecomegoldenandbright-redislandsamidthegreenwinterrye.Thehareshadalreadyhalfchangedtheirsummercoats,thefoxcubswerebeginningtoscatter,andtheyoungwolveswerebiggerthandogs.Itwasthebesttimeoftheyearforthechase.ThehoundsofthatardentyoungsportsmanRostóvhadnotmerelyreachedhardwintercondition,butweresojadedthatatameetingofthehuntsmenitwasdecidedtogivethemathreedays’restandthen,onthesixteenthofSeptember,togoonadistantexpedition,startingfromtheoakgrovewheretherewasanundisturbedlitterofwolfcubs.

           Allthatdaythehoundsremainedathome.Itwasfrostyandtheairwassharp,buttowardeveningtheskybecameovercastanditbegantothaw.Onthefifteenth,whenyoungRostóv,inhisdressinggown,lookedoutofthewindow,hesawitwasanunsurpassablemorningforhunting:itwasasiftheskyweremeltingandsinkingtotheearthwithoutanywind.Theonlymotionintheairwasthatofthedripping,microscopicparticlesofdrizzlingmist.Thebaretwigsinthegardenwerehungwithtransparentdropswhichfellonthefreshlyfallenleaves.

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