They were riding so quietly, however, that Zbyszko found the journey tedious; when they were about one day's journey from Bogdaniec, they heard the snorting and trampling of horses behind them.
"Some people are following us," said Zbyszko.
Macko, who was awake, looked at the stars and answered like an experienced traveler:
"Day-break is near. Robbers do not attack toward the end of the night."
Zbyszko stopped the wagon; however, placed the men across the road, facing the advancing horses, and waited.
In fact, after a certain time he perceived in the dusk, several horsemen. One of them was riding ahead, and it was evident that he did not wish to hide, because he was singing. Zbyszko could not hear the words of the song; but the gay "hoc! hoc!" with which the stranger ended each refrain, reached his ears.
"And you sit down!" answered a joyous voice.
"Answer like a man, otherwise woe to you!"
To this a merry song was given, as an answer to Zbyszko.
"One misery with another They are dancing on the crossway. Hoc! Hoc! Hoc! What use have they of dancing? It's a good thing, anyhow. Hoc! Hoc! Hoc!"
Zbyszko was amazed at hearing such an answer; meantime, the song stopped and the same voice asked:
"And how is the old man Macko? Does he still breathe?"
"For God's sake, they are some of our people!"
"A neighbor. Zych of Zgorzelice. I have looked for you for a week and inquired about you from all on the road."
"_Rety!_[67] Uncle! Zych of Zgorzelice is here!" shouted Zbyszko.
They began to greet each other joyfully because Zych was really their neighbor, and also a good man of whom everybody was very fond on account of his mirth.
"Well, how are you?" asked he, shaking hands with Macko. "Still _hoc_, or no more _hoc_!"[68]
"Hej, no more _hoc_!" answered Macko. "But I see you gladly. Gracious God, it is as if I were already in Bogdaniec."
"What is the matter with you; I heard that the Germans had wounded you?"
"They did, dog-brothers! I A head of a spear stuck between my ribs."
"You see!" said Zbyszko, "everybody advises the grease of a bear. As soon as we reach Bogdaniec, I will go with an axe to the _barcie_."[69]
"What Jagienka? Your wife's name was Malgochna," said Macko.
"O! Malgochna is no more! It will be three years on St. Michael's day since Malgochna was buried in the priests' field. She was a sturdy woman; may the Lord make his face shine upon her soul! Jagienka is exactly like her, only younger."