"What's the matter with you?" he tells the boy. "It's thunder beyond the Black Mountains. Shepherds are lighting their fires beyond the Blue River as they watch their flocks and cook their dinners. Go, boy, and sleep in peace.
The boy left. He lay down to sleep. But he couldn't fall asleep.
Suddenly, he hears a clatter on the street and a knock at the window. The boy looks and sees a horseman by the window. The horse is raven-black, the sword shining, cap gray, and the star red.
"Hey, arise!" shouted the rider. "Disaster has come from an unexpected quarter. The accursed bourgeoisie has attacked us from beyond the Black Mountains. Once again bullets are whistling and shells are exploding. Our forces are fighting the bourgeois, and messengers are flying to summon help from the distant Red Army.
The red-starred rider spoke these frightening words and galloped off. The boy's father went to the wall, took down his rifle, slung on his pack, and put on his ammunition belt.
"Well," the father says to the older brother, "I planted a thick field of rye. It seems there will be much for you to harvest. Well," he says to the boy, "I've lived a full life, and my life was good. It seems, boy, that you'll do just fine."
And so saying, he kissed the boy and left. He didn't have time for long good-byes because everyone could already hear and see explosions ringing out beyond the meadows, and the dawnlike lights of smoky fires burning beyond the mountains.
"Am I telling it right?" Natka asked, looking out over the quiet children.
"That's right...right, Natka," Alka answered quietly and lay his hand on her sunburnt shoulder.
"Well, one day passes. A second day passes. The boy comes out onto the porch. No...still no sign of the Red Army.