Boryna’s nighttime surveillance and guard dog

Maciej Boryna’s nighttime surveillance and guard dog grow out of a threat he cannot verify but cannot dismiss: the possibility that Antek will set fire to the homestead. Although wolves and rumors of robbery give the whole village reason to guard its livestock, Boryna’s vigilance becomes personal and obsessive. The episode turns a family dispute over land into an atmosphere of mutual suspicion, with the farm watched as if danger were already at its threshold.

The Threat Behind the Vigil

Boryna first keeps his reaction to the alarming report to himself. When Rocho visits that evening, however, he confides in him. Rocho warns him not to trust everything Jagustynka reports, calling her wicked, but he does not dismiss the possibility outright. He recalls Old Pryczek, who burned down his brother-in-law’s house after being cheated in a division of land; Pryczek went to jail, but the house had still been burned. The example gives Boryna a precedent for treating a threat of arson as more than empty talk, even though it does not establish what Antek intends.

Rocho urges Boryna to make peace by giving Antek some land. The offer is practical: land would help Antek live and, Rocho hopes, leave him less reason to quarrel or threaten. Boryna rejects the compromise. He insists that he would rather be ruined and driven to begging than hand over even one field while he is alive. He says he could have endured Antek striking and abusing him, painful as that was, but the prospect of some further danger changes the stakes for him. Land is not merely a negotiable asset in the dispute; giving it up would feel like yielding under threat.

Suspicion Becomes Surveillance

Boryna has no proof that Antek plans to burn the house. He is even, deep down, sure of Jagusia’s innocence. Yet he reads the violence in Antek’s eyes as evidence that the hatred between father and son must have another source besides land and resentment. The gap between what he knows and what he fears is decisive: suspicion, not confirmation, sets his vigilance in motion. He tells Rocho, “Lipce is too small for the both of us!” and warns that Antek will answer to him if he catches him at it. Rocho tries to calm him, but cannot reason him out of his conviction.

From then on, Boryna finds no rest. At dusk he patrols discreetly, lurking at the corners of the buildings, circling the house and outbuildings, and looking beneath the thatch. At night he wakes at the slightest creak, listens for hours, and springs from bed to inspect every corner with his dog. The routine makes the farm’s ordinary features—its roof, walls, and outbuildings—objects of inspection for possible signs of attack.

Two traces sharpen his suspicion without settling it. He notices a trampled patch beneath the hayrick, with signs partly swept away, and later finds tracks by the stile. He decides that Antek must have come at night to examine the means of starting a fire. The narrative presents this as Boryna’s conclusion, not as proof that Antek made the tracks or intended arson. The uncertainty matters: each ambiguous mark feeds his certainty, while the feared act remains unconfirmed.

The Dog and Its Cost

Boryna buys a powerful, savage dog from The Miller and builds it a kennel by the shed. He continually provokes it, starves it, and goads it, making the animal itself part of the household’s defensive apparatus. At night it runs wild, barks furiously, and throws itself at anyone who comes near. Its aggression does not remain confined to an imagined attacker: several people are bitten, and some bring charges. A measure intended to guard the farm therefore creates real harm and trouble among the villagers.

The dog also makes visible the change in Boryna’s daily life. Rather than relying on the ordinary security of a household, he has deliberately trained a dangerous animal and organized his nights around watching for an enemy. His response is at once a defense against a danger he cannot rule out and an escalation that affects people beyond the family conflict.

Exhaustion and the Village Context

The vigilance consumes Boryna. He grows haggard and thin until his belt hangs halfway down his hips; his face darkens, his back stoops, and he drags his feet. The narrative links this bodily decline to the agitation he keeps hidden. He lets no one close and has no one with whom he can confide or complain, so the fear has no outlet and continues to burn inwardly. Others can see the precautions, but they do not understand what is lodged behind them.

The village setting makes his behavior outwardly plausible without explaining away its private cause. That winter, wolves gather near Lipce, howl around the village, dig beneath byres, and sometimes take livestock. As spring approaches, rumors of robbers also circulate: horses have reportedly been stolen at Dębica, a hog at Rudki, and a cow elsewhere, with no trace left behind. Other villagers check their locks and guard their stables, especially because Lipce is known for its fine horses. Boryna’s attention to livestock and his purchase of a guard dog can therefore resemble ordinary seasonal caution. What distinguishes his watch is the hidden conviction that Antek is preparing to burn him out—a belief intensified by his refusal to yield land and by signs whose meaning remains uncertain.