Even then he did not surrender and strove to deal his enemy a blow, but his hand was weak.

Kukubenko, taking his heavy sword in both hands, thrust it through his mouth.

The sword, breaking out two teeth, cut the tongue in twain, pierced the windpipe, and penetrated deep into the earth, nailing him to the ground.

His noble blood, red as viburnum berries beside the river, welled forth in a stream staining his yellow, gold-embroidered caftan.

But Kukubenko had already left him, and was forcing his way, with his Nezamaikovsky kuren, towards another group.
"He has left untouched rich plunder," said Borodaty, hetman of the Oumansky kuren, leaving his men and going to the place where the nobleman killed by Kukubenko lay.