He carried off a whole Cossack equipment from a strange kuren by night and pawned it to the tavern-keeper.

For this dishonourable act they bound him to a post in the bazaar, and laid a club beside him, in order that every one who passed should, according to the measure of his strength, deal him a blow.

But there was not one Zaporozhetz out of them all to be found who would raise the club against him, remembering his former services.

Such was the Cossack, Mosiy Schilo.
"Here is one who will kill you, dog!" he said, springing upon the Lyakh.
How they hacked away! their shoulder-plates and breast-plates bent under their blows.

The hostile Lyakh cut through Schilo's shirt of mail, reaching the body itself with his blade.