Explore "A Prisoner of the Caucasus" by Leo Tolstoy on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
Zhílin lived in this way for a month. During the day he sauntered about the aoul or busied himself with some handicraft, but at night, when all was silent in the aoul, he dug at the floor of the barn. It was no easy task digging, because of the stones; but he worked away at them with his file, and at last had made a hole under the wall large enough to get through.
"If only I could get to know the lay of the land," thought he, "and which way to go! But none of the Tartars will tell me."