Kiruha laughed and enjoyed himself, but his expression was the same as it had been on dry land, stupid, with a look of astonishment on it as though someone had, unnoticed, stolen up behind him and hit him on the head with the butt-end of an axe.  Yegorushka undressed, too, but did not let himself down by the bank, but took a run and a flying leap from the height of about ten feet.  Describing an arc in the air, he fell into the water, sank deep, but did not reach the bottom; some force, cold and pleasant to the touch, seemed to hold him up and bring him back to the surface.  He popped out and, snorting and blowing bubbles, opened his eyes; but the sun was reflected in the water quite close to his face.  At first blinding spots of light, then rainbow colours and dark patches, flitted before his eyes.  He made haste to dive again, opened his eyes in the water and saw something cloudy-green like a sky on a moonlight night.  Again the same force would not let him touch the bottom and stay in the coolness, but lifted him to the surface.  He popped out and heaved a sigh so deep that he had a feeling of space and freshness, not only in his chest, but in his stomach.  Then, to get from the water everything he possibly could get, he allowed himself every luxury; he lay on his back and basked, splashed, frolicked, swam on his face, on his side, on his back and standing up—­just as he pleased till he was exhausted.  The other bank was thickly overgrown with reeds; it was golden in the sun, and the flowers of the reeds hung drooping to the water in lovely tassels.  In one place the reeds were shaking and nodding, with their flowers rustling—­ Styopka and Kiruha were hunting crayfish.

“A crayfish, look, lads!  A crayfish!” Kiruha cried triumphantly and actually showed a crayfish.

Yegorushka swam up to the reeds, dived, and began fumbling among their roots.  Burrowing in the slimy, liquid mud, he felt something sharp and unpleasant—­perhaps it really was a crayfish.  But at that minute someone seized him by the leg and pulled him to the surface.  Spluttering and coughing, Yegorushka opened his eyes and saw before him the wet grinning face of the dare-devil Dymov.  The impudent fellow was breathing hard, and from a look in his eyes he seemed inclined for further mischief.  He held Yegorushka tight by the leg, and was lifting his hand to take hold of his neck.  But Yegorushka tore himself away with repulsion and terror, as though disgusted at being touched and afraid that the bully would drown him, and said: 

“Fool!  I’ll punch you in the face.”

Feeling that this was not sufficient to express his hatred, he thought a minute and added: 

“You blackguard!  You son of a bitch!”

But Dymov, as though nothing were the matter, took no further notice of Yegorushka, but swam off to Kiruha, shouting: 

“Ha-ha-ha!  Let us catch fish!  Mates, let us catch fish.”

“To be sure,” Kiruha agreed; “there must be a lot of fish here.”