<Somewhat previously I'll tell what happened after we came to the village of Molchanovo near the Ob River.>

I made a little smudge on the heugh near the Ob and sitting a-smoke fanned mosquitoes away. Women sobbed all night long and my heart was dark. One had to have a stone heart not to care looking at weeping wives and mothers wringing their hands. But in this country the authorities' hearts are accustomed to torment. I am alone. I lost nobody on the way... I have nobody to lose. But when facing lies, deception I was losing my faith in triumph of truth and grief clung like a spider web to the face. And it was difficult to fan it away.