“Now that’s really something!”
“And in the dark, with each thrust of the spear, sparks fly from the jaws,” Hryhoriy said, smiling.
“Shall we take a look?”
“Of course. That’s what we came here for.”
From the top of the descent, they could see the whole of the Podil district. Bounded by the Dnipro River, the Pochaina River and two ramparts, the churches, houses, and adjacent orchards were herded together like people in a marketplace. Only here and there could one make out the unclear outlines of squares, streets and workshop yards. Around the Prytyka jetty there were countless fishing boats with thin masts, and some larger vessels. Two or three sailboats crawled along sleepily, exhausted by the calm air and the heat. And over on yellowish‑green Trukhaniv Island gulls glistened in the sun
