During wintertime, six o’clock in the morning was L— — 's time of reprisal against penal laborers. I went every day at that hour to the meteorological hut, to prepare the instruments for morning observations. Regardless of my home's fair distance from the prison, there came to me in the bright morning air not only the desperate cries of those being punished, but also the blows of the birch rods.

I was always accompanied during my procession in the name of exploring nature's secrets by Krzhizhevskaia's lantern-carrying servant, Maksim Bogdanov, or simply, Maksim, so-called because of his small build. This bearded dwarf, who looked like a fairytale gnome, had long before introduced me to katorga's dark side; and though usually quiet and always submissive, he could not keep from adding to his stream of invective against the warden's cruelty. Though I remained silent, not knowing how to avoid these early morning impressions, my soul was terribly sickened over those wretches.

Without fail, several men in the chains prison would prove designated for punishment. Some had been caught smoking tobacco in restricted areas, or in the evening, after work, had allowed themselves to warm a kettle of water in the ward (this was before L— — permitted all the stoves in the wards to be used), or had completed their assignment incorrectly, or else there was some watchman caught sleeping, or a worker who was a bit delayed in showing up for secondment. All these quotidian victims were supposed to give their blood for the maintenance of discipline.

One day, I spoke to L— — :

“What a number of people you harass each morning!”

“So?!” L— — grew irritated.

“Indeed, you know, when I’m going to the meteorological hut, I can't get as far as the church without hearing a terrible concert of tears and screams from those being punished.”

“So, you’ve noticed,” L— — answered with a long laugh.

“Not only people screaming, but I clearly hear the rods’ blows through the freezing air…”

“Maybe! But you’re talking slander if you say you heard weeping and rods amid the prison yard's usual racket.”

I was astounded by the shamelessness with which he always responded. However, by punishing them either before six o’clock or in a specially assigned ward where the mare and tub of birch rods always stood ready, he spared me the further emotional ordeal of hearing the wretches moan.