Anatoly Rybakov - THE BRONZE BIRD

Then take the.order: "Count off by.twos!" They had never had a case when it was carried out flawlessly. Some would repeat their number twice, while others would keep silent altogether. No amount of coaxing got anything out of them. They'd keep silent and look at you with a timid smile. Especially,the girls. Were they shy, or what?

But even their funny, clumsy turns could not take Misha's mind off the drawing.

All right, let the drawing be worthless. But there must be something in it that was not. Not only he, but others had looked for it, and they were still looking. The "countess," let's assume, was mad, she had lost her mind because of the diamonds, but the man in the green suit was a fact, and his secret correspondence with the "countess" was also a fact. So was Kuzmin's murder... Let there be no hidden treasure. They were not after diamonds. All they wanted was to prove Nikolai's innocence. Would they.give up just because they, like scores of other people, had taken the treasure-bait?

Musing in this fashion, Misha kept his eyes on the clearing where the Young Pioneers were drilling. Why was it so difficult for them to stand in line? Take the Fly, for example. He walked normally, was a fast runner, but when he was in line he limped for no good reason, dragged one foot, shortening his stride. A real Rouble Twenty, the doctor had said about the young count.

Wait a minute!

Misha half-rose as the thought crossed his mind.

The man in the green suit also limped and dragged one of his feet. The same man in the green suit they had seen in the museum. The man who was secretly corresponding with the "countess." Was he the young Count Karagayev? So far as Misha knew, all the counts had fled to Paris. Perhaps, not all of them? Perhaps he was still hoping to find the diamond, which had been so cleverly hidden by his father. It was quite possible! That was probably why he did not show himself at the manor-he was afraid he'd be recognized. He was due on Wednesday.

While the troop was in the village, Genka and Slava got down to copying the drawing.

First they had to find a smooth board on which to spread the drawing.

"This is crazy!" Genka said. "Why do you want to make such an exact copy? We know where the hiding-place is and we're making copies as a formality, nothing more."

But Slava insisted that he needed a smooth board. Besides, he drew well. Genka had to give way to him. They did not find a board that suited their purpose, but came across a cardboard paper-holder with the word "File" written on it. They placed this paper-holder on a tree-stump and put a stone on each o? the four corners to prevent it from shifting. Then they put the drawing on the folder and stretched a page of tracing-paper over it.

Slava began to trace the drawing and Genka stood leaning over his shoulder, watching the pencil, offering advice and hurrying Slava. Why was he being so scrupulous about it? 'If it were he, Genka, he'd have it ready in no time! But Slava paid no attention to Genka and drew very carefully. When he began to trace the bird, Genka said:

"What are you doing? The bird means nothing." "It's on the drawing, so I've got to copy it," Slava replied.' The bird gave him the most trouble. Before that it had been plain sailing: lines, curves and angles. But the bird was drawn with great care. 'It was an exact picture of the bird on the manor house.

"You're only wasting your time," Genka insisted. "It's simply an emblem."

"Maybe not."

"Listen to me. You're wasting your time. We know everything there is to know."

But the conscientious Slava methodically went on tracing the bird. "It's your business," Genka grumbled, "but please don't trace the bird on my copy. I don't need that eagle."

He watched Slava with extreme displeasure. A whole hour spent on just that eagle! And only the first drawing at that! How long would he take to make three copies?

Slava at last finished copying the eagle and began to shade it in. "Hey, what are you doing?" Genka cried, losing his temper. "It's shaded in the original."

"Not all of it," Genka shouted, "and you're shading in the whole bird!"

"My mistake," Slava said, examining the drawing. Indeed, only the eagle's body was shaded in. The head was smeared over with black paint, while the legs were neither painted nor shaded.

"I missed that because of the tracing-paper. You can't see properly through it," Slava said, looking disgruntled. "I'll have to draw it all over again."

Genka tried to stop him. He could see no reason why more time should be wasted. The eagle was only in the drawing conditionally and could have very well been left out. What difference did it make if it was shaded in or not? If Slava wanted to make another copy, he could give him, Genka, the spoilt one and could go on drawing for as long as he wanted.

"Take it if you like," Slava said, putting the spoilt copy aside. "I'll do the others properly. Exactly as in the drawing."

"See if I care."

Genka nonchalantly folded the copy Slava gave him and stuffed it into his pocket.

"Be careful," Slava remarked, "there may be a lot of trouble if you lose it." "I've never lost anything in my life."

Slava had the copies ready by the time the troop returned from the village.

After supper, Genka and Slava gave the drawing back to Misha and showed him the copies.

Misha said nothing as he looked at the now useless copies. Poor Slava had spent half a day over them. And how neat they were!

"Where is the third copy?" Misha asked, playing for time.

"I've got it," Genka replied. "I took the spoilt one for myself."

"Why is it spoilt?" Misha asked, still hesitating to tell his friends the truth.

Genka put his copy beside the others and showed where it was spoilt.

"As a matter of fact," he said, "it's spoilt only because Slava says so. This eagle is of no importance whatever. It's simply the Karagayev emblem, like the bronze bird."

"I quite agree," Slava interjected, "that the shading may be of no importance, but since it's in the original I decided to copy it."

While his friends spoke, Misha looked closely at the drawing.

The bird really showed nothing, neither the place where the treasure was buried nor the road leading to it. The road was given by the lines and curves. They had gone over it the day before and had found it to be correct. The doctor had said that hundreds of people had already tried to find the treasure by the drawing and that meant they had studied it thoroughly. Nobody denied that. But why had the bird been drawn in this unusual way? However small and old the picture was, it was perfectly obvious that the head was painted black, the body-shaded in, and the legs left white. What did it signify?

"What are you looking at?" Genka asked, watching the expression on Misha's face with curiosity and not without a measure of alarm.

"I'm trying to puzzle out what the bird stands for. Why it is here and why has it been drawn so strangely?"

"But what difference does that make?" Genka said, making a wry face. "All emblems mean no more than the eagles on tsarist five-kopek pieces: they're only emblems. Take any coin and on each there's a double-headed eagle. But it signifies nothing. I don't see what there is to puzzle out. We already know where the treasure is hidden. What we ought to do is not to think but to go and dig it out. That's all there is to it?"

"Are you sure?" Misha asked.

"Sure of What?"

"That we know where the treasure is hidden."

Genka lifted his hands.

"But we have been there yesterday."

Misha was silent for a moment, then said with a sigh:

"There's no treasure where we've been."

Genka and Slava stared at him.