Myriads of gnats hovered in the air and pursued the hunters, covering their backs, eyes, and hands.

The air was fragrant with the grass and with the dampness of the forest.

Olenin continually looked round at the ox-cart in which Maryanka sat urging on the oxen with a long switch.
It was calm.

The sounds from the village, audible at first, now no longer reached the sportsmen.

Only the brambles cracked as the dogs ran under them, and now and then birds called to one another.