“The night was dark as far as I could see. At first Pashka peered into the frozen darkness behind the fence, but then he gave up - you still couldn’t see anything. Rely on hearing. And he did the right thing. On the whole it was quiet, only Barbos clinked his chain, fidgeted in his booth, and even sighed like a man. Well, some restless bird, probably an owl, was still periodically screaming in the forest. These were familiar sounds, familiar and natural, so Pashka leaned back on a pile of rags that served as both an armchair and a trestle bed on the tower, and, closing his eyes, listened. He wasn’t afraid to fall asleep - he had a great night’s sleep before his night duty and climbed onto the tower with a completely clear head...”