The Chieftain, and his brother, the Hadji led the way from the sea

shore, accompanied by Ivan, and followed by a numerous band of active

young mountaineers, each completely armed, with a gun slung on his back,

a sword by his side, and a dagger in his belt, to which several had

added pistols. Their dress consisted of a coat, fitting close to the

body, of dark cloth trimmed with silver, without a collar, and open at

the neck, secured by loops in front, and having long hanging sleeves;

the skirts reached completely round to the knees, wide trowsers of a

darkish green colour, tightening at the calf, embroidered boots of

dressed leather, and belts round their waists of the same. Their

bonnets were of sheepskin or dark cloth. Altogether the costume was

elegant and picturesque.

The party proceeded for a short distance through a thick grove, on a

gentle slope, which soon terminated in rough cliffs rising abruptly from

the lower ground, under the shelter of wide-spreading beech trees of

vast height, and of venerable oaks, extending their leafy boughs, almost

to the water's edge. They soon arrived at the entrance of a beautiful

valley, which extended in a winding course far inland. After passing

some way through it, they were entirely shut in by rocky cliffs, or

steep, almost precipitous hills, yet clothed with the graceful linden,

the dark leaved mulberry, the magnificent chestnut, the dark and silvery

olive, and many other trees; and as they wound their way up the steep

sides of the hills, they passed beneath natural arbours of the high

creeping vine, and the graceful hop, which twined their slender tendrils

from tree to tree, and from peak to peak.

The distant scenery was still hidden by the leafy shelter, when a

successive discharge of fire arms was heard, and as they emerged from

the thickets into an open space on the summit of the hill, a party of

young cavaliers was seen galloping towards them at desperate speed,

flourishing their swords, and firing off their pistols, and uttering

shouts of congratulation and welcome; to which the old chief's party

answered when the others rushing forward, joined their ranks.

A beautiful village of low cottages scattered among the trees now

appeared. Apart from the rest, and having greater pretentions to

architectural grandeur, stood a dwelling, surrounded with several other

buildings appertaining to it. From the principal gate-way in the fence,

which enclosed it, was seen advancing towards the party, a personage,

whose appearance struck Ivan with admiration. His long, flowing, and

blanched beard, the deep lines which furrowed his expressive

countenance, and his attenuated figure, bespoke him a man far advanced

in the vale of years, though his eye still glowed with some of the fire

of youth. He walked erect and firm, clothed in complete armour, with

helmet on head, cuirass and cuisses of polished steel plates richly

embossed, as with a noble and dignified air, he advanced to meet his

guests, and to welcome them to his home.

He courteously pressed their hands. "Welcome, my noble friend," he

said, addressing the chief, "and you, oh venerable Hadji, who by the

blessing of Allah, have returned from your travels, to bring wisdom and

knowledge to our country. Welcome also to these strangers, who, under

thy protection, I will receive as my sons and friends. My house, and

all whom Mahmood commands, are at your orders--"

"Most noble Prince," replied the Hadji, as spokesman of the party, "not

the least of my happiness in returning again to my loved country, is to

see you still alive, and ruling your people with wisdom and justice.

Gladly will we partake of your well-known hospitality."

Saying which, the Hadji led the way to the guest-house, to which the

Prince pointed, following himself in the rear of the party, who

entering, took their seats on broad cushions or ottomans, which

surrounded the room; their arms being hung up on the walls by attendants

in waiting. The aged host would not take a seat, till the Hadji and his

brother had earnestly pressed him to do so.

"Rest here awhile," he said, "till my women can prepare food to refresh

you after your voyage. Do not imagine, that though daily threatened by

a descent of our deadly enemy, I cannot, as in other days, prepare a

banquet for a thousand or more of our gallant warriors, if they should

honour me by a visit."

The conversation now became general. The Hadji had many inquiries to

make, and much to relate; and as the time wore on, several nobles of

lesser rank, and importance in the neighbourhood, and subject to the

Prince of Pchad, entered, and took their seats on the Divan. Ivan was

silent, listening with interest to the conversation, while his two

attendants stood respectfully among the others at the further end of the

room.

The subject of discourse then turned entirely on the state of the

country; the Uzden Achmet Beg, the Hadji's brother, giving him an

account of the different military operations which had occurred since

the commencement of the campaign.

"Bismillah!" exclaimed the old chief. "We have well beaten the cursed

Urus, whenever we could catch them beyond the shelter of their

fortresses, where we coop them up like so many sheep in their pens.

They talk of occupying our country; why, they have in all but three or

four forts in it, which they can only hold by means of their fleet; and

which we could capture any day we liked. Except Anapa, which we care no

more for, than a dog chained to his kennel, who barks without reaching

us to bite, they have only Ghelendjik, and another small fort near the

sea, and Aboon at the head of the Kouban, where we close them in, and

have nearly starved them to death. But as they can do no harm there, we

do not choose to risk losing many valuable lives to take it. They once

attempted to establish one of their colonies and forts at Soudjouk

Kalie; but that time we were prepared for them. We rushed down upon

them like a troop of wolves into a sheep fold, ere they could throw up

their fortifications, and carried away one half of their people to till

our own fields; while the rest we drove into the sea, where their ships

picked them up. They found it was no use attempting to sow corn where

they would never be allowed to reap, so they sailed away; and with the

blessings of Allah, we will soon make them do the like from all parts of

the country."

"Allah be praised, we will soon accomplish that work," exclaimed the

Hadji. "My heart yearns to be among them again, with my true sword in

my hand, in the loving way I used to treat them. Bismillah! we must

make a foray among them, just to take the rust off our weapons. What

say you, my son?" turning to Ivan, "will you try the strength of your

arm on the hard heads of the Urus, and strike your first blow for the

liberty of your country?"

"Gladly will I accompany you, my noble friend," said Ivan. "I should

not wish to serve under a better leader, for you well know how ardently

I long to prove myself worthy of the race from which I have sprung."

"Then, by the favour of Allah," replied the Hadji, "before long, I will

lead the way among their ranks, and we will then see what stuff they are

made of, by cutting them to pieces. They are slaves and curs. Their

mothers and fathers are dogs."

The conversation was interrupted by the entrance of several male and

female slaves bearing a repast. The dishes were placed on small wooden

tables, about a foot high, before each person, as they sat round the

room on the ottoman. The host himself handed to every guest a cup of

light mead, a ceremony preliminary to the repast. He would not be

seated until he had performed this courtesy; nor would he join the meal,

notwithstanding his advanced age, till repeatedly urged by the party to

do so. The servants stood round to attend to the wants of each guest:

The repast consisted of mutton, dressed in a variety of ways; fat

poultry, pastry, preserves, and fruit, commencing with a bowl of rich

and savoury soup, with spoons placed for every person to help

themselves; after which, each man drew a small knife from his girdle, to

commence the attack.

Before the attendants had cleared away the tables, the aged Prince

arose, and filling his cup with mead, drank to the health of all present

in turns.

"By what name shall I address my young stranger guest?" he asked,

turning to Ivan. "Though he speaks with the tongue of our people, and

his eagle glance, and lofty stature, betoken him to be a noble, yet know

I not his name. Say, under what appellation shall he dwell in the

memory of Mahmood Indar?"

"Noble Prince," replied Ivan, rising from his seat, "you speak truly,

though I am, I trust, of the pure race of the Atteghei. Name have I

none. I love not the one I have borne for many years, therefore, I give

it not, and the noble name I long to bear, I give not, until I have done

some deeds, to shew myself worthy of the race from which I deem myself

sprung; that my kindred should not say, when I claim their love, that I

am no true scion of their stock. This I have sworn by the bright heaven

above us. My noble friend, the Hadji Guz Beg, has offered to shew the

way among the ranks of our foes, and I have sworn to follow him, even to

the cannon's mouth."

All applauded this speech, the Hadji springing forward to embrace him.

"I see, my second son, that you will prove a true Circassian," he cried,

"and by the blessing of Allah, by to-morrow's dawn, we will proceed in

search of our foes: to-night, we will rest under the roof of our noble

host."

"Happy am I to receive so gallant a warrior as you have proved yourself,

oh! Hadji; and honoured am I in such guests as you and your friends,"

answered the Prince.

The repast being concluded, the party strolled out among rich and

fertile meadows, sloping from the house down to a pure and glassy

rivulet. An orchard of various fruit trees surrounded the dwelling,

while, before it, grew some magnificent chestnut trees, under whose

grateful shade the old noble loved to sit, surrounded by his youthful

descendants, enjoying their gambols on the grass.

In the neighbourhood of the house were the farm yards and granaries,

stored with all kinds of corn, the produce of the surrounding

highly-cultivated fields. On the mountain's brow grazed his numerous

flocks, and in the rich meadows below his herds of fat cattle.

Our hero had parted from his companions, when the page sought his side;

and as Ivan's eye fell on the boy, he exclaimed--

"Conrin, do you find yourself sad and solitary among so many strange

people?"

"Ah, no!" answered the page, "I cannot be sad or solitary when in your

presence."

"Do you then come to congratulate me on having, at length, arrived in

the land of my hopes?" asked Ivan.

"Yes, Sir, yes; whatever gives you pleasure makes my heart beat with

joy; and may your utmost hopes be now fulfilled!"

"Thanks, page; but still my heart is full of fears. I know not, nor

dare I ask, if yet my father lives. Why do you sigh, boy? Does the

name of father cause you thus to sigh?"

"Alas, Sir, I never knew one: the name sounds like mockery on my ear.

The kind and noble friend, whom I thought my father, I found was not so;

and yet I feared to ask who was."

"'Tis strange," said Ivan. "And your mother, boy?"

"Alas, Sir!" said the page, "the kind and gentle care of her, who was my

mother, I never knew."

The boy's eyes filled with tears.

"I would I had not asked you, boy, about your parents, to make you weep

thus: but dry your tears; I will supply the place of both your parents,

as much as in my power lies; and you shall share my fortunes, which, I

trust, will lead to happiness."

In a moment the boy's eyes brightened, as he gazed up into Ivan's face,

with an inquiring and searching glance, yet radiating with smiles of

joy.

"'Tis that alone I ask to do," he replied. "To follow your fortunes

through good or evil, in happiness or misery. Still speak to me in

words like those you just now uttered, and they will repay me all the

hardships I may endure."

"I could not speak harsh words to one so unprotected as you are. Now

tell me, what think you of my countrymen? Are they like the wild

barbarians the Russians would have taught the world to think them? But,

thank heaven! they yet may learn how true courage can oppose its arms to

tyranny, though backed by hosts of slaves."

"I did not think to find them as they are," replied the boy; "more

courteous far, and hospitable, than the people of the land whence we

came. True valour sits in the eye, even of the lowest of the

multitude."

"You praise them well, good page, but justly," replied Ivan. "But see,

the party move towards the house. We must go in. Keep by my side, as

you see the pages of the nobles do."

Volume 2, Chapter VI.

As the sun of the first day, which Ivan had passed in his native land,

sunk down beneath the waters of the ocean, shining bright and blue

between an opening in the hills, the guests re-assembled in the

hospitable mansion of the Prince Mahmood, where another repast was

served, much in the style of the former; and as the party were seated at

it, a new comer entered the guest-house. He was dressed in the high fur

cap of Armenia, with a long-flowing, dark robe, bound by a belt round

his waist, at which he carried an ink-horn, pen, and book.

A slave followed him, staggering under the weight of large packages,

which he had unloaded from two horses at the door.

He took his seat respectfully, at some distance from the chiefs, and

humbly ate the viands which the Prince ordered to be placed before him.

"Whence come you?" demanded the host of the stranger, who seemed to be a

pedlar or travelling merchant. "What goods do you bring for sale?

Allah knows we have little need of any, except powder and lead in these

times."

"I come from the City of the Sultan," replied the Armenian, "from the

rich Stamboul; and I bring jewels and silks for your lovely wives and

daughters, and gemmed daggers and swords for you, noble chiefs. But I

am a man of peace, and thought not of the powder and lead."

"You will find but a bad market for such wares here," answered the

Prince; "but in my house you are welcome. What news bring you from

Stamboul? Do you hear what measures the great Padishah is taking in our

cause? Or, forgetting the children of his holy creed, does he tamely

submit to the audacious tyranny of the proud Moscov?"

"Alas! my father," replied the merchant, "though all men desire to aid

your cause, and many would eagerly hasten to your assistance, yet the

power of Russia is great, and no movement can be made without coming to

the ears of her minister in the capital of the Sultan, where a whole

host of spies are ever on the watch to carry information to him. The

Sultan--may Allah prosper him!--would of his own free will do much for

you; but where is now his power, since the standard of the Osmanlis has

sunk before the eagles of the Moscov? Alas! fallen is the greatness of

the Turks, my father. Their old allies, the Inglis, have forsaken them,

and joined the armies of their foes. What help have you, but to yield

to the mighty power opposed to you?"

"What help have we!" vehemently exclaimed the Hadji. "You are a man of

peace, and the guest of our host, or you should eat those words of dirt

you speak. What help! We have the help of Allah in our rightful cause,

and our own good swords to defend our homes; and with the will of

heaven, we will show those cursed Urus that we know how to use our arms.

Let them venture from their strongholds, and we will teach them a

lesson they will not easily forget. Go to their camps, merchant. Tell

them to come on; we fear them not. But, man, you speak false. Bosh! it

is nonsense. I, too, have come from Stamboul; and the Inglis are again

the friends of the Sultan; and I know well they would aid our cause if

the Urus did not cram their ears with lies. There are many noble

spirits among them, ready to fly to our assistance. Go to, man, you

speak of things long passed. You know not what you say."

The Armenian pedlar looked confused for a moment, but his assurance soon

returned.

"If the noble Hadji has just arrived from Stamboul, I have no more to

say. I have journeyed far by land since I left that city, so he,

perchance, brings fresher news than I do."

"The Hadji is right," said the Prince. "For I too know that the Inglis

are our friends, and if they would but send us powder and lead, we would

be grateful, and be their friends for ever."

"The Inglis, say you, Prince?" answered the Armenian; "you are deceived

in the Inglis. They are a nation of merchants like me, and aid not a

cause where they cannot make gain; some few are gallant warriors, and

would shed their blood perhaps in your cause; but of what assistance

would a few more swords be among a nation of warriors? No, Prince, I

say, expect no help from them. Seek not to war against so powerful a

nation as the Moscovite. I say not, be friends, but it is madness

contending with them."

"Mashallah!" exclaimed the Hadji, furiously regarding the stranger, "I

warned you, trader, not to speak of peace with our foes, and you have

again done so. Beware how you utter those words again. The Inglis are

a brave nation, and I know that they are good warriors, for I have met

many of them; and all who come to this country shall be welcome. But

what want we more than our own arms to defend our own mountains? Speak

not again of peace. Bosh! such words I spit upon;--they are vile."

"I see, noble Hadji, your slave is wrong," cringingly returned the

pedlar. "I thought of some other Franks; mine too is not a nation of

warriors like your's, to hold out so long against an invader, and to

endure, for so many years, all the miseries of war. I spoke but my own

feelings, therefore let not your anger be kindled against a poor

merchant, who would do nothing to offend you."

The Hadji's anger was as quickly appeased as it was easily excited, and

he regarded the Armenian more with feelings of the deepest contempt than

with any hostile thoughts. The pedlar himself appeared to have

discovered that the most discreet conduct he could follow, was to keep

silence among the present company.

Appealing to the Prince, he craved leave to exhibit his goods to the

ladies of the family.

"I have but little to give for aught you may possess, merchant; yet as

the women love to look on fine silks and jewels, you may send in your

packages to the anderoon, and see if they will select any. Go now, it

is late, they will soon retire to rest."

As the Armenian left the apartment, the Hadji glanced at him with a look

of disgust. "For what should that slave talk to us of treating with the

Urus?" he cried; "one might think from his words that he was a friend of

theirs; but he is a craven-hearted slave, and not worth further

thought."

The principal part of the company now adjourned to the verandah in front

of the house, where they passed an hour in smoking the much prized

tchibouks.

Before they retired to rest, the pedlar returned, having disposed of

some of his silks to the ladies of the family.

"Your slave," he said, humbly addressing the Hadji, "hears that you and

some other noble chiefs are travelling towards the north to-morrow, and

it would be a high honour as well as a great kindness, if you would

allow him to accompany you."

"Do you fear, merchant, that your friends the Moscov would ease you of

your goods, if you happen to go near their forts?" The pedlar started.

"But what care I? you may go with us if your pack horses can keep pace

with our steeds; but remember that we delay not for a few bales of

silk."

"Thanks, noble chiefs," replied the pedlar, bowing before them; "much

shall I prize your protection. But do not say that the Russians are my

friends; I know them not, I hate them, I detest them, I spit upon them."

"You do well, man," replied the Hadji. "But remember another time, that

if you talk of peace between the sons of the Atteghei and the Moscov,

while they remain on our coasts, you may chance to take a leap from a

higher rock than you would like."

"Your servant hears, and will follow your advice," replied the Armenian;

then turning to the Prince, he presented to him a richly jewelled

dagger. "Perchance, as the noble Prince Mahmood will not purchase, he

will accept as a gift this dagger from his servant, to prove his love

for the Atteghei, and his hatred for the Moscov. He will honour his

slave much by receiving it from his hands."

The Prince looked musingly at the dagger, which seemed of great value.

"Take back your gift, merchant," he said; "what Mahmood requires he can

purchase, and beware how you make such gifts. They are too much like

the bribes the Urus offer to tempt traitorous hearts to join them.

Mahmood thanks you, but cannot accept your gift."

"Your slave would be more gratified if the Prince would take the

trifling gift. He can repay it when he pleases."

"I thank you, merchant, but I have said I will not accept your gift,"

replied the Prince. "Therefore take it back, and go in peace."

The Armenian, as desired, took the dagger, concealing it beneath the

folds of his dress, while the Prince whispered a few words into Achmet

Beg's ear.

The night being already far advanced, the party prepared for rest.

Slaves entered the guest-house, bringing cushions and coverlids of rich

silk, and spreading them on the floor, to form beds for the guests, on

which the voyagers gladly threw themselves to rest.

Seeing that every thing was arranged, their Princely host retired to a

part of the dwelling appropriated to himself.

The walls of the room were adorned by tablets with passages of the Koran

written on them, while the arms of the guests, with several suits of

rich armour, hung suspended around. The internal ornaments afforded a

strong contrast to the primitive simplicity of the mansion, and to the

simple habits and customs of its inhabitants. The manners of the

chiefs, however, were courteous and knightly, resembling all we hear of

the chivalry of the middle ages, or perhaps still more like the heroes

of ancient Greece.

The lower orders and serfs, also, are certainly less barbarous, and

perhaps more intelligent than the Scottish highlanders of the same class

a century ago, if it is necessary indeed to go back so far.

The next morning, the Uzden Achmet Beg assembled his followers, who had

been dispersed about the neighbouring hamlet for the night; and when it

was rumoured that the celebrated Hadji Guz Beg had returned from his

distant pilgrimage, and was about to take the field, with his hatred of

the Urus unabated, numbers of young men volunteered to join his

standard, leaving the old men and women to attend to their fields.

Achmet Beg indeed, though the head of his tribe, and a much respected

noble, had not gained that renown which his younger brother had acquired

by a long series of hazardous and daring exploits. The latter,

therefore, was always preferred as a leader by the young and bold

spirits of their tribe, nor did the elder, who was of an unambitious,

quiet character, feel the slightest jealousy at his brother's superior

military abilities.

Ivan was overjoyed when he found with whom he had formed a friendship,

little thinking while aboard ship, where he had scarcely spoken on the

subject of war, that the sedate Hadji was the renowned warrior he on all

sides was acknowledged to be; and though he seemed somewhat to boast

among his friends of past deeds, and of others to be accomplished, it

was easy to see that it was not the vaunting of a pretender, by the

attention paid to his words.

A gallant array of cavaliers now assembled before the house of Prince

Mahmood; the chiefs in glittering suits of armour, some of highly

polished plates of steel, and others of finely worked chain, their

cloaks of varied colours, and swords girded to their sides, with richly

embossed handles. The daggers in their belts were decorated in the same

manner. Many carried pistols, and the greater number had also a long

rifle slung at their backs, thus mingling the weapons of ancient and

modern days.

Their retainers were armed, some with long guns, and others with long

bows, and quivers full of arrows, wearing in their belts short

double-edged swords, or rather daggers, and straight sabres by their

sides.

As Ivan issued from the house, he found a high-mettled steed waiting at

the door, held by Achmet Beg's squire. The Hadji advanced as he

appeared, and leading the horse forward, presented it to him, saying:

"Let me be the first, my son, to provide you with a charger of the true

Atteghei breed, who well knows his way among the ranks of the Moscov;

and in case you do not like the gift, you can repay me when we have made

a foray into their country, and have carried off a rich booty. Till

then, accept him from a father who loves you. There are two others,

which count as nothing, for the use of your squire and page, though

perhaps not to be matched among the Cossacks of the plain."

Ivan, gratefully thanking him for his well-timed present, vaulted with

alacrity into the light saddle, Javis holding his stirrup, and then

following his example. Young Conrin also shewed himself no mean

horseman, leaping lightly on his small, but well proportioned and active

steed.

The whole party were prepared to set forth, when the aged prince himself

appeared, tendering to each guest of noble rank a parting stirrup cup of

mead; for such is the knightly custom, still adhered to in that

primitive country.

"May the blessings of Allah attend you, my sons!" said the aged

chieftain; "may your arms be victorious over our enemies, and may death

fly from your ranks. Would that I too had strength to lead my followers

to the field; but while my gallant sons yet exist to take my place, I

must remain to guard our lands from the foe. Should it be the will of

Allah that they fall, then I too must gird on my sword, and yield my

last breath amid the din of battle. Now Heaven protect you, my sons!"

The venerable Prince, grasping the hand of each chief as in turn they

rode by, the cavalcade set forward. As they issued from the court-yard

of their konag, the cry of "Ogmaff! ogmaff! farewell! farewell!"

resounded on all sides from the assembled retainers and slaves of the

chief; and loud shouts of "Vo-ri-va-ka," rent the air, as a parting

salute to the warriors who were sallying forth to defend their country.

They set forward at a brisk pace, Ivan keeping by the side of the Hadji,

who pointed out to him each scene of note as they advanced, explaining

to him the Circassian style of fighting, and other subjects of interest

and importance.

In the rear of their ranks, came the Armenian merchant and his pack

horses, light active animals, formed of bone and sinew alone, who

continued to keep up with the high-mettled steeds of the warriors,

though the ground was rough and hilly. Their route lay across a

country, wild as if no other foot had trodden it save the beasts of the

forest; now over the edge of dizzy precipices, then descending into

savage glens and through dark and frightful defiles, amid gigantic

rocks, bared, broken, and distorted into a thousand strange forms.

Then again they had to scale some lofty elevation, amid splendid

forest trees, where a platform of rich ground would be found,

highly-cultivated, and far removed from the reach of their enemies.

Occasionally they saw, amid the almost inaccessible recesses of the

mountains, some Alpine cot, whose skin-clad inhabitant was tending his

flocks of goats.

As they rode along, game of various sorts, such as wild turkeys,

pheasants, hares, and deer, would start up in their path, to which some

of the party gave chase, and either ran down or shot with their

true-aimed arrows. As they were passing through a rocky defile, an

immense wild boar started up in their path.

"A fortunate omen for our next expedition," shouted the Hadji. "Now, my

Deli Khans, let us give chase to the huge monster as we would to the

savage Urus."

Uttering these words, and with the spirit and agility of youth, spurring

on his horse, followed by Ivan and the younger men of the party, he rode

at the beast, who, gnashing his long tusks in defiance as he turned his

head towards them, first endeavoured to escape among the rocks, when he

saw the number of his foes. The Hadji was, however, too quick for him;

and the boar, seeing escape from his active pursuers was hopeless, stood

at bay. Grinning at them with his sharp teeth, and foaming with fury,

he prepared to rush at the headmost of his opponents; but, nothing

daunted, the aged, but active huntsman rode directly at him, and leaning

from his saddle, plunged a short sword deep into the thick neck of the

animal, who made a last desperate attempt to rip up the horse of his

opponent; but the Hadji, making his steed spring on one side, the fierce

beast rolled over, and expired without a struggle.

Shouts of applause, from those of his friends who had come up to the

scene of action, followed this dexterous feat of the old warrior.

"Bosh! it is nothing," he exclaimed. "I did it but to ascertain if my

eye had lost its quickness, or my arm its nerve; but, praises be to

Allah, neither of them is the worse for my long rest."

The carcase of the boar was left to feed the beasts of the mountain,

less scrupulous than the followers of Mahomet; though in truth, few of

the Circassian mountaineers are very strict observers of the tenets of

his religion, nor would object, if hard pressed, to a slice of the

unclean animal.

"We will soon find more noble game than this," said the Hadji, turning

to Ivan, who had arrived as the boar received his death stroke; "and you

will become both a good huntsman and a good warrior. But Inshallah! the

first is only fit sport for boys or young men, when there are no enemies

to be met with; and I did it but to stretch my sinews a little after my

voyage."

The whole party now proceeded through a deep and romantic glen, where

scarcely a breath stirred the light festoons of creeping plants which

hung from the rocks above. All seemed solemn and sad; when Achmet Beg's

followers struck into a low chaunting song, describing the actions of

some chief who had fallen lately, fighting against the Russians. The

whole party joined in a rich and full chorus; the sounds of Ay-a-ri-ra

swelling and dying away among the ravines and far distant glades of the

mountain forest.

Ascending a lofty eminence, crowned by trees, they emerged from their

shelter, when a view was obtained of the sea below them, and of the fort

of Ghelendjik, far to the north, built on one side of a deep bay.

Stretching far beyond it was a long line of white cliffs. As the party

of warriors gazed on it, expressions of execration burst from their

lips, and the Hadji looked anxiously down a steep pathway leading to the

shore, by which he might have gained the outside of the fort; but

feeling the uselessness of the wish, he merely contented himself with

muttering--

"The piggish cowards! Let us but meet them beyond their walls and

without their cannon, and we will soon teach them better manners than to

pay us a visit without an invitation."

It struck the chiefs as singular, that they had met none of the

sentinels, who watch every height along the coast in the neighbourhood

of an enemy.

"The men of Hyderbey were not wont to be sluggards at their posts!"

exclaimed the Hadji to his brother. "How is it that they do not watch

these heights?"

"Perhaps they have gone nearer to our foes," replied the chief, "to

shoot any who may show their faces above the walls of their fort."

The scene below them seemed calm and quiet. A few white sails of

Russian vessels, alone dotted the smooth bosom of the Euxine. In the

fort all was so quiet, that it looked like a deserted mound of earth.

The roofs of the buildings scarcely peered above the walls; and the

proud standard of Russia was hardly distinguishable, as it hung

listlessly round its staff.

Not a breath stirred the air, and deep silence reigned on the calm

scene, when, in a moment, it was broken by the loud crash of artillery,

followed by the continued reports of musketry, far above which rose the

loud war shriek of the Atteghei.

"Allah be praised, here is work for us, my friends, without delay!"

exclaimed the gallant Hadji, in a joyous tone, "Bismillah! we will be

upon them when they little expect us, and aid our friends, whoever they

are. Follow me, brave warriors."

So saying, he spurred on his charger, with his brother and Ivan by his

side, followed by the rest of the band, and galloped, by an almost

precipitous path, down the wooded sides of the hill. They passed many a

rocky ravine, and dry bed of winter torrents, tearing their way with

eager haste through the boughs and thick underwood. Nothing could stop

their course.

Volume 2, Chapter VII.

We have, in a previous chapter, attempted to describe the romantic and

pastoral beauty of the coast of Circassia, as viewed from the sea. We

must now transport our readers to a scene of even loftier grandeur, and

more surpassing loveliness.

On the southern side of a high mountain, thickly clothed with the varied

foliage of magnificent trees, some two or three hundred feet from the

base, was a broad and extended plateau or terrace, terminating on one

side by a steep precipice, while on the other the mountain rose in

majestic grandeur, from the side of which, amid the trees, projected

rocky crags of fantastic shapes, partly covered with the slender

tendrils of creeping plants. Down the mountain's slope sparkled a

bright cascade, leaping from rock to rock, here hidden from sight by

some overhanging trees or jutting cliff, and there appearing more clear

and joyous than before, till it fell in a spray-wreathed column into a

bason, from which it meandered through the small plain of the plateau,

fertilising in its course several highly-cultivated fields, till it

again fell in a shower of foam over the sides of the precipice, into a

beautifully green and broad valley below; there joining the pure waters

of a rapid rivulet, which brawled over its rocky bed in its course

towards the sea, through the winding gorge of the valley.

Towards the east, as far as the eye could reach, appeared hills and

mountains of every form; some swelling in gentle undulations, and

covered with fields of corn or green pastures, where grazed numerous

flocks and herds; some clothed to their lofty summits with magnificent

forests, and others again rising in steep, rugged, and barren

abruptness. Above all were seen blue ridges of mountains, rising one

beyond the other; first clear and defined, and then growing more

indistinct and faint, till lost in the azure tint of the sky. In the

same direction, the terrace extended for some way, gradually narrowing

till it merged in the steep sides of the mountain. Some well cultivated

high ground of no great elevation, rose on the opposite side of the

valley, which, in the direction of the sea, narrowed into a deep ravine,

taking an abrupt turn, with precipitous and insurmountable sides. The

sea face of the mountains which formed it, could be trodden by none but

the light-footed goat, or the almost equally active and daring

mountain-hunters.

It was, in truth, a situation well calculated to secure a retreat, and

to form a fortification against any hostile invader, if protected by a

few brave and resolute men; and on that account, it had been selected as

a location by the gallant chief of a once numerous tribe, who had been

driven by the Russians from his former hereditary possessions.

His residence stood just within sound of the refreshing cascade, whose

pure waters flowed before his door. The house was surrounded by farm

yards, well-stocked with every species of domestic animal, and every

kind of poultry. Well-planted orchards formed part of the homestead;

and the trees in them were now loaded with fruit.

The dwelling consisted of several separate buildings, of the usual style

of Circassian architecture; but one was arranged with more care and

attention than the others. This was the anderoon, or house appropriated

to the women; it was separated from the others by a paling, which,

however, was not sufficiently high to obscure the prospect. The front

looked down the lovely valley, over many a rocky hill and cliff, beyond

which, in the distance, was the bright blue sea. Before it extended a

verandah, round whose trellised supports many creeping plants had been

trained; their slender tendrils bearing sweet-smelling flowers, which

hung in graceful festoons from the top.

But it was in the interior that the brightest gem of the casket was to

be found. On a cushion of rich silk, was seated, gazing through the

open door, a young girl, lovely as one of Eve's fairest daughters. Her

eyes, of the deepest blue and of dazzling lustre, shaded with long dark

silky eyelashes, were gazing upon the picturesque view before her; her

delicate carnation lips were slightly parted, disclosing her pearly

teeth. Her features were perfectly regular; and the fair complexion of

her gently rounded cheeks was almost imperceptibly tinged with a roseate

hue. Her raven hair fastened by a silken band over her forehead, fell

in a long plait behind, and from her head a veil of white gauze scarcely

shrouded her graceful and slender figure. The robe she wore was of blue

silk, trimmed with silver; her full white muslin trousers were confined

with a richly worked girdle, which encircled her waist; and small

slippers of coloured leather, beautifully worked in arabesque patterns

with silver, completed her attire.

By her side lay an embroidered belt, at which she apparently had been

working, as the golden thread still hung, unconsciously, in her slender

fingers.

At a short distance from this lovely creature, sat a little girl, busily

occupied in spinning; whose small, quick, piercing eyes, and dark

irregular features, shewed her to be not of Circassian race; a slave

taken, probably in some predatory excursion, from the Calmuck Tartars.

As she pursued her occupation, she turned at times her quick glance

towards her young mistress, as if with an endeavour to catch her eye,

but without avail; and she seemed fearful of arousing her from her

meditations, whatever might be their nature.

A tame kid of snowy whiteness was gambolling before the door; till,

grown bold by impunity, it bounded into the room. But even the pretty

animal's playful antics did not rouse her; and the little maiden

diligently plied her work, despairing of recalling the thoughts of her

lady, to the affairs of the present moment.

At length the sound of a distant footstep approaching the dwelling,

caught her ear, she started from the reverie. "Run, Buda, run!" she

cried, in tones of silvery sweetness, "haste, maiden! and see who

approaches; but whoever they may be, stop them from coming here. Say I

can see no one to-day; I am ill at ease; I should weep to see strangers.

Shew them to the guest room, but not here. Say I would see friends

another day, but I cannot now. Go, child."

The little girl was flying to obey these mandates, when the young beauty

stooped for a moment, in the attitude of listening. "Stay, Buda, stay;

it is useless. My fears have made me fanciful. Those are my father's

footsteps. Haste, Buda, to usher him to my apartment."

While she spoke, the subject of her meditations appeared at the entrance

of the apartment, ushered in, according to etiquette, by the youthful

slave. As he entered, he bowed low, his lofty plumed helmet touching

the door-sill, and as his graceful daughter rose from her silken

cushions to receive and welcome him, he folded her in a tender embrace.

He was a warrior of commanding and majestic stature, clothed in complete

armour. His coat of mail richly inlaid with gold, shone brightly with

steel of the highest polish. His curling dark moustache and beard were

yet untinged by any of the hues which betoken the approach of age,

though his stern and fine features were marked with many furrows,

indicating deep thought and numerous cares. He raised from his head his

glittering helm, which his daughter respectfully took and placed by her

side, as he seated himself on the ottoman and beckoned her to sit near

him.

"It is long, my father," said the fair girl, "since I have rejoiced in

the light of your presence; and oh, what pleasure do you bring to me

when you come! I was before sad and thoughtful, and now I feel light

and happy. Say, what has kept you so long away?"

"My own sweet Ina," answered the chieftain, "in these times of war and

of constant peril, I have many things to attend to; and it does not

become a warrior to spare many moments from his duties, even though he

spend them in soft intercourse with one so loved as you, my child. I

have even but now returned from mustering the small remnant of the

faithful followers whom his foes have left to Arslan Gherrei; to see

that they are well supplied with arms, horses and food, for a campaign.

But why, Ina, were you just now, so sad and thoughtful?"

"Oh do not ask me, my father! now that I am again happy," replied the

daughter. "I did but for a moment feel somewhat ill, and feared that

guests were coming whom I did not wish to receive. I am well again, my

father, now that you are with me."

"I have matter of importance to communicate to you," said the chief,

"you know Ina, that I so love you, that for all the riches of the mighty

Padishah of the Osmanlis, I would not part from you; but yet, sweet one,

the stern necessity of war compels me to leave you, and I must haste to

join the hosts of my countrymen to repel our invaders. I may perchance

fall, and leave you unprotected."

"Do not say so, my father," cried the lovely Ina. "Surely heaven will

protect us, as it has done before. But why this sudden haste? Stay but

some short time longer with me, and among your fields and retainers.

Nothing can have happened to call you so quickly away."

"It may not be, dear daughter. Now listen to my words. I have already

told you that the valiant Khan, the noble Khoros Kaloret, has seen you--

that he loves you. He is rich and brave; hundreds of retainers obey his

commands and follow him to battle. He has numerous slaves who till his

fields; rich pastures on which large herds of cattle graze; innumerable

flocks wander over his mountains, while none can boast of finer horses

or richer armour. What more can I say of him? He has sent his brother,

who has just arrived, as an envoy to demand you in marriage, and I have

spoken much to him. He says that he loves you, truly and deeply--that

he would sacrifice half his possessions to gain you. Nay, tremble not,

loved one. You know that horses, cattle, or the richest armour, are but

as nought compared to you--that I would give all I have for your sake;

but yet in this time of war, when any moment may lay me low, I would

find some gallant protector who would shield you from danger; that when

I am in the land of the blessed spirits, I may look down and see my

child happy. Many there are who would be to me as a son, and would

gladly accept your hand and succeed to my possessions; but none appear

to win my Ina's heart. Say, will my child become the bride of the

Khan?"

"Oh my father, indeed, indeed, I feel your kind and generous conduct,"

exclaimed Ina, with feeling and animation. "Where other fathers do not

consult their daughters' wishes, you willingly yield to mine. I too

have seen the Khan, but I would not be his bride; I cannot dream of love

for one like him. For your sake, my father, I would wed whom you

wished; but still he should be one whom you too could love, who would

obey, and follow you as a son. Ah! that Allah had made me one, that I

might follow you to the battle, and share your dangers and your

victories. If I were to wed this Khan, I should see you no more; I

should be carried far away to his mountain home, distant from the sounds

of war and strife, when you would be left alone without a child to

attend you, when sick or wounded; or should you return victorious, none

would be in your home to offer you a joyous welcome. Oh, my father! let

me still remain your daughter; let me remain to tend your household and

your flocks, if you will not let me go with you. But oh! how much

rather than become the wife of the richest noble, would I follow you to

the field, to cheer you in the camp, to dress your food, to be your page

and attendant. This I can do."

"Alas! my daughter, I cannot leave you here, for I must take all the

followers that I can muster to the field. I have now so few, that I

cannot leave enough to guard our home; and should our invaders gain the

entrance of this pass, my house and fields must fall a prey to them.

Then, my Ina, would you not be more safe and happy as the wife of a

powerful chief, with thousands of warriors to fight under his banner,

than to be following me amid the toils of a campaign?"

"No, oh no," replied the daughter. "I do not, I cannot love the Khan;

he is brave, but fierce, noble, and cruel; his followers obey him more

through fear than love. His very features bespeak his character; he is

no true son of the Atteghei, and I would wed none but a scion of the

true stock. Oh, tell the Khan's brother, that you cannot part from me;

that I am your only child, your successor; that I am not worthy of the

Khan's thoughts; that Circassia has many maidens far more prized than I.

Oh! say that you will do so, and restore happiness to your daughter's

heart. It was the thought of this that made me sad and ill."

The Chieftain gazed at his daughter with a glance of deep affection;

yet, for a moment, the customs of his country seemed contending with his

love. Nature, however, triumphed over habit.

"I will do as you will, my Ina," he cried, clasping her in his arms. "I

will send word to the proud Khan that even he cannot melt the icy heart

of my child. Nay, do not weep, my daughter; you shall not leave me

against your will for a stranger's care."

"Thanks, thanks, my father," exclaimed Ina, affectionately returning his

embrace. "You have restored peace and joy to my heart, and gladly will

I prepare to accompany you to the camp."

"That cannot be," replied the chief. "Your delicate frame is but ill

prepared to share the hardships of a warrior's life; but your safety

shall be better cared for, and I will bestow you with the family of my

kinsman, the noble chief Aitek Tcherei. His lands are far removed from

danger, among the rocky fastnesses of the mountains; and yet, so near

the camp, that a quick-footed messenger, may reach it on the second day.

Thither will I conduct you, Ina, ere I seek the field; and there, with

a companion of your own age, you will be safe and happy. To-morrow

after the sun has risen, prepare to accompany me, with your women and

slaves; I must now away to the guest-house, to give your message to the

young Khan Besin Kaloret, who is eagerly expecting an answer; and were

it not for his oath of peace, methinks the proud Tartar Khan would ill

brook a refusal. And now, Ina, farewell, till to-morrow's morn, when I

will meet you with my retainers to guard you on your way."

The Chieftain arose, again bestowing an affectionate embrace on his

child, as she presented him with his casque. He replaced it on his

head, and quitted the chamber, attended by his daughter to the door.

She followed him with her eyes, till he reached the entrance of the

guest-house; when returning to her couch, she placed her hands before

her face, and gave way to her overcharged feelings, in a flood of tears.

The little slave Buda gazed with astonishment, to see her mistress so

overcome with distress; she approached her with concern.

"Oh, my dear mistress! why do you weep?" she cried.

Ina looked up at the little girl, with an affectionate and grateful eye.

"I weep not through pain, Buda, but that I am a weak, foolish girl,

unworthy, some would say, to be a maiden of Circassia, where all ought

to be brave and bold. I weep, because I may not share my father's

dangers, and that I may never again see him, or hear his voice. I weep

too, for joy, that he so loves me, that he will not part from me. But I

must not give way to thoughts like these, or my tears will not cease

flowing. I must nerve my soul to bear all that may happen, with the

courage of a daughter of the Atteghei, if I have not the strength of her

sons. Now haste, Buda, we have much to do, to prepare for our journey.

Summon the women from the fields, tell them that we must leave our home;

bid them hasten to prepare our goods and furniture for our journey. Go,

good Buda, go."

As the little slave ran off to obey her mistress's behests, the pet-kid

again gambolled within the door of the room, and ran bleating to its

fair guardian, looking up with its soft eyes full of affection, to her

face. She bent down, and took it up in her arms. "Ah! my little

plaything, and you too, I must see for the last time; perchance, no more

shall I look upon your pretty gambols; no more will you come to be fed

by my hand. When I am gone, you will wander wild among the mountains,

with no roof to shelter you, and miss the care of your mistress, or a

more sad fate, perhaps, be driven into the hands of those worse than

wolves, our greedy invaders. Farewell, pretty one! give one more look

with those soft eyes, and then go, forget me, and be happy among the

wild flocks of your kind."

The little animal, as if understanding her words, or the tone of her

voice, ceased its frolicsome play, and seemed unwilling to quit her

side.

The whole household was kept the rest of the day in a state of bustle

and activity. The women were busily employed in making packages of all

the light and easily moved valuables of the family; every one being too

well prepared for the necessity of such a movement. Ina herself

attended, to see that the tasks were properly performed; for a

Circassian maiden, even of the highest rank, does not consider it a

degradation to attend to her household affairs, but rather an honour to

be so employed.

Volume 2, Chapter VIII.

The chieftain, Arslan Gherrei, was one of the bravest of the nobles of

Circassia. He was generous in his behaviour, courteous in his manners,

and temperate in the extreme; but there was a melancholy in his

countenance, almost approaching to sternness. He kept aloof from his

countrymen, except in the council of war or the scene of strife, where

his advice was respected, and his standard followed with alacrity. At

their banquets and scenes of conviviality and amusement, he was scarcely

ever to be found, preferring rather his domestic hearth and the society

of his daughter.

Such was the father of the beautiful Ina, the devoted patriot, the

champion of Circassia; but as we shall have occasion to refer, at a

future time, to the particulars of his history, we will now follow his

steps to his guest-house, where the young noble, the brother of the

Tartar Khan Khoros Kaloret, was anxiously waiting his return with Ina's

answer to his brother's proposal of marriage; not dreaming that it was

possible any maiden of Circassia could refuse so noble an offer.

The young Khan, who was seated on the divan at the further end of the

apartment, attended by his squire, rose as the chieftain entered. He

was a tall, hard-featured youth, of herculean frame, clothed from head

to foot in chain armour, over which he wore a dark cloak of thick cloth;

his head was guarded by a helmet, or rather cap, of iron, trimmed round

the edge with a thick fur border, giving to his face rather a ferocious

appearance, which his overhanging and scowling brow did not belie. By

his side hung a ponderous two-edged sword, the handle richly embossed

with gold and ornamented with jewels, as was the poniard at his belt.

His other weapons, as well as those of his squire, hung against the wall

over his head.

His squire was without armour of any sort; but his cap was of the same

coloured fur as his master's; and his dress of dark cloth fitted closely

to his figure. This man was of shorter stature than the Khan, and thick

set, with the same disagreeable, forbidding cast of features. The Khan

seemed eager for the chieftain's reply, though he tried to conceal his

anxiety; but before either of them spoke, his host, motioning him to

resume his seat, took a place on a cushion opposite to him, waiting for

his guest to commence the conversation.

"Noble Uzden, what answer does the bright dawn of day send to my gallant

brother? Will she be the queen of his anderoon, and the future mother

of our noble race? When will she be prepared to meet my brother on her

road to his home, and when shall I again come with a large company of

our retainers, such as befits her rank and beauty, decked in bridal

array to bear her away to the longing arms of her spouse?"

"It cannot be," answered the chieftain, gravely, "I speak not with

disdain of the noble Khan, your brother, but my daughter is to me as my

son; and not even to him, for all the riches of Stamboul, will I part

with her against her wish. Ina is still young, and loves me as a son

would. Tell your noble brother that she will yet remain with her

father; that she is the only bright jewel I cherish; that I value her

more than the richest armour, or steeds of the purest race. There are

other maidens of the Atteghei, gladly willing to cheer your brother's

home--willing to be the mother of his sons, brave and warlike as their

father; may Allah send joy to his house! but my daughter cannot be his

bride. It is enough, Khan, I have given my answer."

The brow of the young Besin Khan grew darker at these words. "Must I

then go back to my brother with such an answer as this? Must I go tell

the leader of a thousand brave warriors that a weak girl will not bow to

his will? Why thus, oh Uzden! do you throw dirt in my face? Must I

speak such words as these in my brother's ear? Think you that he will

listen to me? He will say that I am laughing at his beard. He will

tell me to return and bring back his bride; you know not my brother, if

you suppose that he will hear with calmness such words as these. He

will not rest. He will send me back with another message, and will not

receive me till I return with his bride. Say then, oh chieftain! that

the sweet bird shall quit her bower, that she will come and sing in my

brother's anderoon. She will soon be happy there, though at first she

may mourn for her father's home; and she will become my brother's pride,

his brightest jewel, his sweetest flower. He will send you, Uzden, a

coat of armour through which no sword can cleave; four noble steeds of

the purest race, fleet as the wind, a fine herd of fat cattle, and

flocks of sheep. Do not despise these things."

"Have I not said, Khan, that my daughter is to me more than armour or

steeds?" replied Arslan Gherrei; "why then, talk we like children? My

word is spoken--my daughter cannot be the bride of the Khan. Be not

foolish, but take my message to your brother; and now Khan, speak no

more on the subject. Refreshments are preparing for you ere you return,

if you must needs use so much haste; but rather spend this night at my

house, and by to-morrow's dawn you shall depart, for I lead forth my few

remaining followers against the foe, and must take my daughter to place

her in safety with the family of our kinsman Aitek Tcherei. Stay then,

till to-morrow, when you shall go in peace; and perchance the next time

we meet, it will be on the battle-field against the Urus; for I have

often been witness of your bravery, and many of your foes have I seen

bite the dust."

"I cannot stay; I must away with haste; I want not food, if such is the

only answer, oh chief! that you can send my brother," exclaimed the

young noble with vehemence. "He will not brook such words as these.

His soul will not tamely submit to this refusal. It is folly to think

it. His offer was not made to be refused."

"You speak words of folly, Khan; your brother is no child, that he

should be angered at a thing like this," replied the chief, gravely.

"Your feelings carry away your judgment; wait, and you will think better

on the subject to-morrow."

"You little know my brother. He is now waiting, eager for the answer I

must take, and I will not tarry to hear more of such words," exclaimed

the young Khan, still more angry than before. "My horse, Kiru!" turning

to his squire. "Reach me my arms. Bring forth my horse. Order my

followers to mount, and away."

His squire, as desired, presented him with his gun and pistols, and

hastened from the room to obey his orders, while the young Khan strode

angrily and haughtily to the door, where he stood, foaming with rage,

till his horse was brought forth. He then mounted, without offering the

customary salute at parting to his noble host, who amazed, and vexed, at

his want of knightly courtesy, and at his hot, irascible temper,

re-entered his house.

Followed by his squire, and the retainers of his family, the enraged

young noble galloped furiously along the flat terrace, till he reached

the steep path on the mountain's side, down which he continued his way,

and along the bottom of the valley in the direction of the sea, keeping

his course towards the north, along the coast.

Volume 2, Chapter IX.

Among the beetling crags of the high, dark, and rugged mountains, which

surround the still more gigantic and terrific Elborous, is a deep glen,

more wild and fearful than the many other fissures into which the

mountains have been rent by some awful convulsion of nature, forming the

only accessible approach to a wide bason, round which precipitous cliffs

arise on every side. Their lofty and pointed summits are

insurmountable, even by the wild goat or active chamois.

It appeared as if nature had formed the spot expressly to serve as a

fortification for outlaws, as a dozen or twenty men could at all times

defend the entrance from a host of foes. It was for this reason that

the ancestors of the present occupier of the country had selected it as

a spot on which to fix his abode, probably on account of his own lawless

disposition, that he might sally forth from this strong hold, and commit

forays on his neighbours, with a secure place to retire to with his

booty, without fear of reprisal. Be that as it may, his descendants had

followed constantly the same occupation; rushing down on the unguarded

and unsuspecting villagers of the plains, carrying off their cattle, and

seizing on themselves as slaves.

The first of the present race who inhabited this wild spot, was a Khan

of high rank in Tartary; one of the many who escaped with the exiled

King into the mountains of the Caucasus, when driven from his throne by

the Russians under the grasping Catharine. There they were hospitably

and joyfully received by the brave people from whose blood they had

originally sprung; great numbers, therefore, settled in Abasia, and

their followers adhering to them through good and evil, they thus formed

powerful tribes in their new mountain homes.

From the marauding practices of the ancestor of Khoros Kaloret Khan, he

was possessed of large herds of cattle, flocks of sheep, numerous

slaves, and a breed of high-mettled steeds, from the stock which they

had brought with them from Tartary. Thus possessed of abundance of

wealth, he refrained from practices followed in more lawless times. He

was at the head also of a numerous band of retainers, who obeyed him

implicitly as their hereditary chief and master; so that besides his

rank, he was a person of great consideration in the country, though

perhaps more feared from his power to do evil, than loved for the

benefits he conferred on his neighbours.

His temper, being uncontrolled, was fierce and violent, so that none of

his retainers dared to disobey his slightest orders; yet they followed

him willingly to battle, for he was, at the same time, a brave and

skilful leader, and the Russians had often felt the power of his arm in

his tremendous onslaughts. No sooner did they commence hostilities

against the tribes of Caucasus, than his father, leading out his

clansmen from their fastnesses, proved himself one of their most bitter

and unceasing enemies. Deep and fierce was his revenge for the wrongs

which Crim Tartary had endured at their hands.

Sending once some of his people to throw themselves in their way, in

order to act as guides to them, he drew a large body among the

fastnesses of the mountains, where, having lain in ambush, he set upon

them with his followers, and slaughtered several hundreds on the spot.

The others, attempting to take refuge among the caverns and rocks, were

hunted like wild beasts. For several days did the savage chase

continue; every avenue for their escape was so guarded, that none

returned to tell the tale of their disasters. Those who were not taken

and put to the sword, died of starvation among the barren mountains.

The young Khan and his brother had imbibed from their father the same

bitter hostility towards their foes; but revenge ruled their breasts

more than love for their adopted country; and the ungovernable and fiery

temper of the elder, often led him to commit excesses, even among his

own followers, of which his father was not guilty.

Such was the suitor for the hand of the gentle Ina; and though Arslan

Gherrei loved him not, yet he was not fully acquainted with his real

character; nor could he, without giving good reason, refuse his suit

without a deadly insult, as he himself was descended, by his mother's

side, from the same race, though of a royal line.

The house of the chief, near which was erected a high watch-tower, was

built directly facing the rocky defile leading to the green circular

plain or bason before described, thus commanding a view of all who

approached.

The Khan was pacing under the verandah in front of his house, in a state

of violent excitement.

"See you any one coming?" he shouted to a page stationed on the summit

of the watch-tower. "Why tarries my brother thus? Why sends he not

messengers to announce the coming of my bride? Surely he would not fail

to send, and give me time to meet the beauteous girl, with due honour,

on the way. He is not wont to disobey my orders. See you none coming,

slave?" he again vociferated. "See you none coming?"

"On my head be it, Khan, I see not one speck moving in the whole of the

glen," answered the page.

"Am I your Khan, that you hasten not?" he cried, to some attendants

waiting at a little distance. "Do you, Zand, take the fleetest steed,

and fly towards Ghelendjik for three hours, returning without delay; and

see that you bring me tidings of my coming bride, or of my brother's

messengers."

The man hastened to obey the order, the Khan continuing his irregular

and agitated walk as before, every now and then turning his glance down

the glen, then shouting to his watchman to learn if he had caught sight

of any one approaching. The answer was as before. His impatience

increased.

"Saddle me a steed, knaves--haste, fly. Am I not your Khan, that you

make no better speed?"

A horse was quickly brought him; when, throwing himself into the saddle,

he rode furiously down the dark ravine; but he soon returned, on the

back of the panting animal, from the fruitless search.

His temper was not assuaged by his headlong and heating ride; as

throwing the reins to a slave, who stood trembling to take his horse, he

resumed his hurried walk in front of his dwelling.

Another hour passed, when the look-out man, on the watch-tower, gave

notice that he saw a horseman coming up the glen. As he approached

nearer, he proved to be only one of the messengers despatched in the

morning, and he reported that he could gain no intelligence of any of

the young Khan's escort.

The shades of evening were beginning to throw a deep gloom into the

glen, when the look-out man again cried that he saw a party of horsemen

approaching.

The Khan instantly threw himself on a gaily caparisoned steed, preceded

by his banner-bearer. His squire and pages followed, with the principal

of his retainers, and galloped down the glen to meet the expected bride.

What was his rage and disappointment when he did not see his brother's

towering form, or the white veil of the betrothed; but met, instead, the

travel-worn and agitated band of retainers who had set out with him?

"Where is my brother, and where my bride?" he exclaimed, riding

furiously towards them with his drawn scimitar uplifted. "Say,

caitiffs, ere I slay you."

"As Allah is great, we dare not say, Khan, where your brother is. We

know not--we cannot speak," answered the foremost of the party. "The

fair daughter of the Uzden Arslan Gherrei is with her father."

"What! does she not come with my brother? Speak, slaves; answer, I

charge you," cried the Khan.

"This only we know, Khan. On my head be it that I say truth," replied

the first speaker:

"The brother of the Khan parted from the Uzden Arslan Gherrei in anger,

that he would not let his daughter come to be queen of our chief's

anderoon. We then travelled towards the castle of the Urus at

Ghelendjik, where Besin Khan, taking with him only Kiru, ordered us to

proceed a day's journey, and then wait for him. For two days he came

not. We waited a third, and we then went to search for him. We heard

that there had been a bloody fight between some of the tribes on the

coast and the Urus, and we thought our young Khan would not have been

absent; but all, of whom we asked for news of him, turned aside, and

would not answer. We then went to the shore, where the combat took

place, and among heaps of the vile soldiers of the Urus, almost

destroyed by the birds of prey and wild beasts, we found the sabre,

which was our young master's, broken, and his iron cap and his corslet,

with a deep dent on its centre."

As he spoke, the horsemen opened their ranks, and discovered between

them, on a led horse, the shattered arms of Besin Khan.

"As Allah is great, Khan, this is all we know," added the man.

The rage of the chief seemed for a moment abated, by the shock he had

experienced at the account of his brother's too probable death. But it

as suddenly returned.

"What lies are those you speak, villains?" he exclaimed. "Is it the

custom of the chiefs of Abbaseik to leave their companion warriors when

slain on the field? Though he had not his own clansmen with him, think

you the other nobles would not have brought off his body were he slain?

No; those cannot be the arms of my brother. If you have lied, some of

you shall suffer for this. Follow me to my house. We will see, when

light is brought, if these are truly my brother's arms."

And turning his horse's head, he rode hastily homeward.

Throwing himself on a divan, in his principal apartment, followed by all

the newly-arrived troop, he caused torches to be brought, and the arms

to be placed before him. He examined them narrowly.

"Alas, my Khan!" said one of his attendants, "the hilt of this sabre I

know it too well. Often have I seen it in your noble brother's hand."

"Peace, fool!" answered the Khan, furiously. "Think you that I know not

my brother's sword? Yes, those are his arms, and I will make those pay

dearly who have cast this indignity on my father's son. He would not,

if living, have left his weapons on the field; and by Allah and his

Prophet, I swear that I will have revenge. He may have fallen into the

hands of the Urus; but no, Besin Khan would not be taken alive. I will

go to the chieftains of the Atteghei, engaged in this combat, and make

them pay dearly for thus deserting my brother, if he was slain. If he

were near, and heard the sounds of strife, so assuredly would he have

rushed into the thickest of the fight; and if he fell by those hated

Urus, doubly will I wreak my vengeance on all of their cursed race who

fall into my hands. Yet what is the blood of a whole host of such as

they are, to one drop of the blood of my noble brother? He would have

died for me, and shall I rest while I live to avenge him? No; his

spirit calls to me from the grave."

He rose, and walked in an excited manner through the chamber, shaking

his clenched hand in the air.

"Perchance even yet, my brother, thou art not slain! Wherever thou art,

at the hands of that proud Uzden Arslan Gherrei, I will demand thee. He

must know where thou art. Why should he refuse me his daughter? Am not

I as noble as he? Have I not more faithful followers, more flocks and

herds? Then why does he refuse to let the maiden come to my anderoon?"

On the next morning, a fierce and warlike band were ready to follow the

Khan, as, clothed in rich and glittering armour, with his banner borne

before him, he left his mountain home, nor tarried on his road, but with

furious speed galloped on, like some cataract descending from a lofty

mountain to the plain.

The band of horsemen issued from the glen, passing along the giddy edge

of precipices, fearless of danger, down the steep sides of the rugged

mountains, along the dry rocky bed of the winter torrent, never drawing

rein.

The inhabitants of the villages and hamlets ran out on hearing the

rattling hoofs of the steeds, as the fiery Khan and his followers

galloped by; but none greeted him as he passed, and, like a whirlwind,

vanished from their sight.

"Ai! ai!" cried the aged villagers. "Is the Khan again on a foray? Woe

betide the hapless people of the plain he pounces on; or if he rides

against the Urus, many will rue his coming, as he gallops over the

slaughtered bodies of their countrymen."

Volume 2, Chapter X.

It has been seen, that young Khan Besin Kaloret had been deputed by his

brother, the fierce Khan of the mountains, Khoros Kaloret, according to

the custom of the country necessary to be observed on such occasions, to

make his proposals to the Uzden Arslan Gherrei, for the hand of his

lovely daughter; having several times seen her in his excursions to that

part of the country, and being deeply captivated by her beauty, and

reputed accomplishments.

The young envoy came, empowered to offer rich presents, which his

brother had prepared to her father, in the full confidence that his

magnificent overtures would be accepted; for who could doubt that the

suit of a powerful and youthful noble would be successful; one, whom a

thousand brave warriors obeyed, and followed to war, who possessed large

herds of cattle, flocks of sheep, fleet steeds, and rich armour.

Koros was, as we have said, a noble of a violent and revengeful

disposition; so that his brother, though he loved him, and was himself

equally brave, quailed beneath the fury of his overpowering anger; and

well he knew that a defeat in this affair, would raise it to the utmost.

On leaving the Uzden his thoughts were bent on vengeance, or on

accomplishing his object; and had it not been for the oath, which he,

with many other nobles had entered into, to refrain from all broils

amongst each other, on account of the impending danger of the country,

he would probably have determined to return immediately with a strong

body of his retainers, and carry off the unwilling girl by force. As it

was, the tumult of his feelings took away all his judgment, nor knew he

how to proceed; when his wily squire divining his thoughts, laid a plan

to which he had little doubt his master would accede. When the Khan

first drew rein, he began cautiously to unfold a stratagem, which he had

thought of, by which the wished for object might be obtained.

"Why does my young master thus give way to anger and despair, at the

folly of a wilful pale-faced girl? Why does he think, that it is

impossible to succeed in obeying the wishes of his noble brother? Are

there not yet many ways left to attain his object?"

"What mean you, Kiru? speak!" exclaimed the Khan. "To what do these

words you speak tend?"

"The chieftain Arslan Gherrei, and his fair daughter, with the few

retainers he has left, travel this way to-morrow, and will pass near the

Russian fort at Ghelendjik," answered the crafty counsellor. "Could not

then my master instigate the Russians to sally forth, from their

entrenchments, and capture the chieftain and his daughter, as they pass

by? They will give the lovely maiden as a reward to my master, that he

may take her to his brother, our chief, to make his home joyful with her

presence."

"What are these words, I hear?" exclaimed the young noble in an angry

tone, and frowning at the same time. "Would you have me turn traitor to

my country? Would you have me break my oath by dealings with the cursed

Urus. No, Kiru, no. Are they not my deadly foes? Have I not slain

them, as the mower sweeps down the ripe corn with his sickle? No, Kiru,

it cannot be."

Setting spurs to his horse, he again galloped forward, to avoid the

temptations of his attendant. He, however, pondered on the subject as

he rode; and his imagination having been once excited by the instigation

of his follower, he could not drive the idea from his mind, by the

rapidity of his pace. Unfortunately for himself, he again stopped to

hear what further arguments his squire might have to urge; who, like the

arch instigator to evil, seeing the effect his proposition had already

made, ventured to proceed.

"Does the Khan, my master, think that I would persuade him to form a

friendship with the hated Urus? No! no! I love them not. My master

mistakes my words. I would advise only that he should make use of their

assistance to gain his object, and then he may quit them without thanks.

He may again bathe his sword in their blood, as if he had never spoken

to them. What matters it, if a few men on either side be slain? It is

a trifle compared to fulfilling his brother's commands."

"That may be, Kiru; but will not men say, that I have stained the name

of our family, by holding communication with our enemies?" said the

young Khan.

"No one need ever know what you have done," replied the tempter. "Leave

that to the care of your faithful squire. Will not also many of the

Urus be slain in the combat, and thus benefit our cause? for the chief

Arslan Gherrei is too brave and powerful to let many escape to tell the

tale; and while all are engaged, the Khan can rush down and carry off

the fair girl, as if to rescue her from her enemies. Has not your

servant well spoken, Khan?"

"Your plan is good, Kiru," he replied, now almost determined to follow

the crafty suggestions of his tempter. "Yet, how can I gain admittance

to the fort of our enemies?"

"That is easy; for they are always glad to see those whom they may hope

to gain over to their side; and we may easily deceive them. Say, but

the word, and I will go on, to prepare for your coming," urged the evil

counsellor.

"You persuade me much, Kiru; but yet are not the scouts of the Atteghei

constantly on the watch to mark the movements of the Urus; and will not

they assemble a larger force of their people, the moment they see them

leave their entrenchments?"

"That, too, shall be my care," answered the squire. "I will deceive the

scouts, and send them in different directions, so as to leave the road

clear. On that account there is naught to fear."

"Your persuasions are powerful, Kiru," answered the Khan, now scarce

hesitating, "and in no other way do I see that I can fulfil my brother's

wishes."

"We have no time to lose then, Khan," said the squire. "Let us hasten

to put the plot in execution, and we will shew these foolish Russians,

how well we can deceive them."

The young Khan had now been fully persuaded to commit this act of

treachery and folly. Waiting, therefore, till his followers came up, he

despatched them on their way homeward; while he and his squire proceeded

towards the castle of Ghelendjik, keeping as much as possible under the

shelter of the rocks and trees, that they might pass unobserved by the

Circassian scouts, till, at the close of evening, they arrived under its

walls.

The fort of Ghelendjik was built on the eastern side of a deep bay, the

calm waters of which were sheltered from nearly all the winds which

agitate the Black Sea. Lofty and precipitous hills rose around it, at

some distance from the shore, leaving, on the side where the fort was

erected, a broad expanse of sand and low ground, reaching beyond

musket-range of the hills. Far to the north-west, extended a high range

of chalk cliffs; above which the mountains rose in broken ridges, or

sunk in deep ravines to the very edge of the cliffs forming an

impassable barrier to troops; while on the other side, the land

stretched far into the sea in wooded promontories or capes, forming a

series of beautiful bays or windings of the shore in the direction of

Pchad.

The walls of the fort within which the Russians were cooped up by the

vigilance of their foes, were built partly of stone and partly of clay

embankments, forming a high parapet, surmounted with palisades; and from

the embrasures frowned the muzzles of their guns, in a long line of

ordnance of the heaviest calibre, loaded at all times to the mouth with

langridge and grape shot. On the outside a deep ditch had been dug, and

redoubts thrown out. At intervals of a few yards between the rough hewn

timbers forming palisades, bristled the bayonets of the numerous

sentinels constantly on the watch, to prevent a surprise from their

indefatigable and dreaded enemies. The store-houses and barracks were

built of wood; many of them but wretched huts scarcely giving shelter to

the miserable garrison, which now consisted of upwards of four thousand

men. Even with this strong force, so vigilant and persevering were the

Circassians, that the Russians could scarcely venture to shew themselves

beyond their walls without being fired at; and their foraging parties to

obtain wood and water were escorted by a troop of artillery, to guard

them against the attacks of the natives. All the trees in the

neighbourhood had been felled by the invaders to build their fort, and

to prevent the mountaineers from finding shelter behind them in their

advances, in case they should attack it; so that the country for a short

distance around, wore a desolate and barren aspect: a sad contrast to

the smiling and rich scenery a little further off.

In a hut of better pretensions than the other buildings, within the

fort, sat, on his camp sofa, the commander of the Russian castle. The

deep frown on his dark brow, showed his mortification at the ill success

of the Imperial arms, and he was meditating fierce and sanguinary

revenge against the gallant mountaineers for their determined defence of

their native land.

He was one with whom our readers are already acquainted; the reputed

father of our hero, the Baron Galetzoff.

The governor was interrupted in his meditations by the entrance of an

officer, who came to announce that a native chief, as his dress

betokened him to be, had with a single attendant arrived at the fort,

and seemed to have some communication of importance to make.

"Admit him," said the Baron. "But let a company with fixed bayonets

form round him at the entrance of the fort, and I will go forth to meet

him. I cannot trust these mountaineers; some treachery lurks beneath

every action. Call my interpreter, and I will hear what this robber

chief has to say, and order the troops under arms, that he may see our

strength, and report it to his countrymen for he comes here but to act

the spy."

As the Khan and his squire entered the fort, the moon slowly rose above

the mountains, throwing her soft clear beams on the calm waters of the

bay, and shining on the fixed bayonets of the troops, and on the swords

of the officers, who stood grouped in knots around in rich and varied

uniforms gazing on the proud and warlike-looking stranger, while the

banner displaying Russia's dark eagle floated vauntingly above their

heads.

A troop of Cossacks, in their wild and picturesque garb, were mounted on

fleet horses with embroidered housings. Their arms were highly

ornamented; and, as they galloped to the spot, they flourished aloft

their long spears whose points glittered brightly. On either side the

troops were drawn up in long and close lines; the bayonets seeming to

form a sharp, pointed wall of bright steel tipped with burnished silver.

In different parts of the fort blazed the camp fires of the soldiers;

and, in attendance on the governor, came a party of men with torches,

throwing a red glare of light on all around. The miserable buildings,

and dark irregular fortifications were thrown into shade, leaving only

the gaudy and glittering panoply of war exposed to view, mocking the

calm splendour of the moon, as she glided in her course through the deep

blue sky, amid myriads of bright and shining stars.

As the Russian governor reached the gate of the fort, he perceived the

commanding figure of the young Khan Besin Kaloret, and his squire

standing close behind him with a cocked pistol in his hand. The

mountain warrior stood fearless and unabashed amid the gorgeous and

imposing array of the Russian troops forming round him.

"Who are you," began the Baron, "who have so audaciously ventured to

approach my camp? Know you not, that I have the right and power to

order you to be instantly shot for the many atrocities committed by you,

and your barbarous countrymen? Speak, what brings you here?"

"I fear not your power," calmly answered the Khan; "nor should I die

unrevenged; but I come to you with thoughts of peace, I come to crave

your assistance in an affair of import, but I cannot speak when so many

are, near who may overhear my words."

The Russian General, conscious of his own evil intentions, looked at the

pistol held by the attendant Kiru. The Khan saw his glance. "Put up

your pistol, Kiru. We have nothing here to fear," he said; and, as his

squire obeyed, the Baron ordered the soldiers to fall further back.

"Now tell me your errand," said the General, "and say who you are."

"It matters not who I am," replied the Khan, "but my errand is this; I

would possess myself of a fair girl, the daughter of a chieftain, who,

with a small band of followers travels this way to-morrow. Though they

are brave, they may be easily overpowered if you will follow my

suggestions. Now hear me, General of the Moscov. If you will send one

hundred of your foot soldiers with me, I will lead them to a spot where

they may remain in ambush, till the chief and his band pass that way.

They may then rush out and take them prisoners if you will, and as my

reward I claim the chieftain's daughter."

"The plan might succeed," answered the Baron, doubtingly. "But how can

I know that you mean no treachery? I cannot trust your countrymen."

"You might know that I would not play you false, by coming here among

your troops in your camp. If you doubt me, slay me. I am in your

power."

The unembarrassed manner in which the Khan spoke contributed to allay

the Baron's suspicions, though he still hesitated to trust the stranger.

"Suppose I follow your advice," said the General, "how can it succeed?

for, overlooked as we are by the enemy's scouts, none can leave the fort

without being perceived."

"I have arranged that also," answered the Khan. "My squire, whom I can

trust as myself, will go forth to lead the scouts astray with false

reports, and none shall interrupt our proceedings. The spot too on

which I have fixed is near at hand, so that you may send assistance if

required. Will you do therefore as I wish?"

"How can I be assured of your fidelity?" again inquired the Baron. "I

must have some hostage to prove that you are not deceiving me, you

yourself must stay while you send some one to point out the spot; and

when the girl you speak of is captured, you shall have your reward."

"That cannot be," replied the Khan, equally distrustful; "I must myself

lead your fighting men to the place of ambush; and must also be near at

hand to carry off the daughter of the chief, that none may know I had

aught to do with the surprise. The rest treat as you will; but you

still distrust me. It is well. I will send out my squire before

day-break to clear the country round of scouts, and when he returns he

shall remain as a hostage to prove my truth. Is it not well?"

The Baron at length agreed to the proposed plan, congratulating himself

in the hope, that, by the capture of a chieftain, with all his family

and women, by retaining them as hostages, he should bring into

subjection all his landsmen and followers; and finally, by detaining the

young Khan as a prisoner for the same purpose, a justly severe

retaliation would be inflicted on the treachery of his countrymen. The

Baron therefore ordered double the number of infantry asked for, with

some light field-pieces, and a troop of Cossacks to attend, the Khan and

to watch the proceedings with orders to kill him should he attempt to

escape.

The conference being over, the young traitor was conducted to a hut

prepared for him, where refreshments were offered, and every inducement

held out, with promises of valuable presents should he quit the

Circassian cause, and with his followers join the Russians. But his

cupidity could not be excited. Revenge for the insult he considered his

family to have received alone ruled his actions. He turned a deaf ear

to their most tempting offers, though, to disarm suspicion, he pretended

to be influenced by these propositions.

Not so, however, his squire, who hoped to partake of the rich presents

and advantages which his master would acquire, if he accepted the

Russian's offers; and he determined to use his utmost persuasions with

the Khan for the purpose.

The next morning before the sun had risen, Kiru stealthily sallied forth

from the fort, and fully succeeded in misleading the scouts of the

Circassians, who dreamed not of such treachery. But on his return, to

his great surprise, he found himself detained a prisoner. What was the

Khan's dismay, also, when he found how different were the arrangements

made from what he had himself proposed, and that he was completely in

the power of his enemies? But he had now advanced too far to retrace

his steps, so that at all hazards he determined to attempt the seizure

of Ina, hoping at all events to escape with her in the melee.

It was clear, however, that he did not at first intend to prove a

complete traitor to his countrymen, nor, till driven to desperation by

finding himself out-witted, would he have drawn his sword against them.

If his countrymen saw him rescue Ina, she would become his fair prize,

and he thought that most of her friends would escape by the fleetness of

their horses.

Volume 2, Chapter XI.

The household of Arslan Gherrei were early astir on the following

morning, to be in readiness to commence their journey, whenever their

chief should give the order. Several household slaves, Calmucks, and

even Russians, who had been taken prisoners, and one or two Poles,

deserters from the enemy, but who had not yet proved their fidelity to

the Circassians, by wielding their swords against their late masters,

were employed in loading the sturdy ponies with the articles which the

women had prepared. Lighter steeds were in readiness to carry the

females; and one of fine proportions, with sleek skin, and long-flowing

mane and tail, as docile as a dog, was destined to bear the graceful and

slender form of the chieftain's daughter. The beautiful animal was

decked with rich housings of scarlet cloth trimmed with gold; slender

reins of leather entwined with a golden thread, and bunches of wild

flowers in his head. And truly he seemed conscious of the care bestowed

on him, and proud of the charge he was accustomed to carry.

After the frugal morning meal had been dispatched, the fair Ina,

blooming in the fresh morning air, came forth from her dwelling, and the

chieftain himself appeared, to conduct her to her steed. In addition to

her other dress, she now wore a scarlet mantle worked with gold, and a

hat, the rim turned up on one side, in which was placed a white plume

fastened by a jewel of price; while a thicker veil hung in ample folds

from her head to shroud her features, if she pleased, from the rays of

the sun, or the too admiring gaze of strangers.

As soon as their young mistress had mounted, the women and the rest of

the party followed her example, her father riding by her side, to guide

her palfrey through the more difficult part of the road. The women

servants and slaves followed next; the household attendants bringing up

the rear with the baggage horses. As the cavalcade proceeded along the

plateau or terrace before described, and wound down the steep sides of

the mountain, and along the valley towards the sea, it was joined by

bands of horsemen, of ten to twenty at a time, arriving from different

directions; so that, by the time they had reached the defile which

opened on the sea-coast, the party amounted to nearly a hundred

warriors.

Some of them were nobles of little consequence or wealth, who were glad

to attach themselves to the standard of so gallant a leader as the brave

Uzden Arslan Gherrei; and others were yeomen and freemen, who had been

followers of his family for ages. Some wore entire suits of armour;

others, only breast-plates and helmets; others, were without any

defensive armour; but all were completely supplied with weapons: light

guns slung at the back, scimitars attached to their sides, pistols in

their belts behind, and the cama or dagger at their waists. The rest

wore the tight-fitting Circassian coat, the cloth or fur cap, and a

large cloak over the shoulder; so that the whole of the party had a

bold, martial appearance; the horses curvetting and careering, and the

leader's banner borne at the head, fluttering in the wind.

It was, in truth, a noble and gallant looking little band, worthy to be

led by such a chief. And Ina's eyes flashed with enthusiasm and

animation, as she rode by her father's side, at their head, guarded on

each side by a few of the most favoured and honoured.

In order to avoid the more rugged and difficult passage over the

mountains, the chieftain had, for his daughter's sake, chosen a route

along the sea-coast, affording a plain and even path for some distance

towards the north, before it would be necessary for him to strike inland

towards the place of their destination. After riding for some distance

by the side of the clear stream, flowing through the valley, they passed

the narrow gorge which formed its entrance, emerging from it into the

open coast of the blue sea, whose waves rippled on the bright hard sand

at their feet.

High on their right, rose lofty mountains, covered with shrubs of every

varied form and hue. Sometimes they passed beneath the boughs of

wide-spreading trees, whose grateful shade sheltered them from the heat

of the sun, now rising high in the heavens; and again where the gentle

breath of the sea-breeze came soft and cooling to their cheeks.

The leader kept his small troop together, except a few of the younger

men, who galloped about in every direction, both to ascertain whether

any enemies were lurking about, and to amuse themselves by martial

exercises; now throwing the djereed with unerring aim, now galloping

their fiery steeds up the steep sides of the mountain, amid rocks which

appeared to afford scarce footing even for the nimble goats; then

dashing amid the cooling waters of the clear blue sea, and swimming

their well-trained steeds at some distance out in a line with the shore.

There some would join in mimic fight, chasing after, or flying from

each other along the hard sandy margin of the ocean. Not a few, indeed,

were eager to exhibit their feats of horsemanship before their

chieftain's fair daughter, whose bright smile every now and then offered

rich reward for any superior display of dexterity or courage.

They were now approaching the neighbourhood of Ghelendjik. Though

little danger was to be apprehended from their foes; who scarcely left

their entrenchments, and never without a strong force when driven out by

famine to forage in the neighbouring country; yet as a good commander,

Arslan Gherrei considered it necessary to lead his men more carefully

along the Dehli Khans keeping a stricter watch in every direction.

To avoid the fort, it was necessary to leave the sea shore, and to

proceed over some rugged paths further into the interior. A rapid and

deep stream, however, the Mezi, crossed their path, before they could

reach a part of the mountains practicable for their horses and baggage.

The nearest ford was close to the mouth of the stream; so that, to

enable the women and their goods to pass over secure from wet, it was

necessary to return again to the margin of the sea, which they had

previously left for a short distance, in order to pass through a shady

grove on level ground. The young men, however, at once dashed into the

stream, quickly swimming their horses over, and galloped along on the

bank of the side they had gained to meet the rest of the party, and

assist them in crossing, which, with some difficulty, on account of the

depth of the water, they accomplished.

The warlike little band, forming in order, turned again from the sea, to

proceed along the bank of the stream, to the entrance of a vast gorge,

through which its waters passed.

Few scenes could have more of wild grandeur than the one now before

them. The foaming waters of the stream, dashing over its rocky bed,

were lined, where the crevices of the rocks afforded root for them, with

willow, elder, and other trees and shrubs. On each side of the gorge,

were dark and lofty rocks, overhung with bending shrubs and creeping

plants, which fell in thick festoons; while the sides of the mountains,

rising high above the shore, and crowned to the summit with thick

growing trees, were so precipitous, as to afford but a narrow, steep,

and winding path, difficult even for the nimble horses of the

Circassians.

Ina gazed up the steep sides of the mountain with doubt and hesitation,

as to the possibility of crossing it; but finding her father about to

proceed to the fort, she prepared to accompany him.

Some horsemen, who were sent in advance to clear a passage among the

thick branches of trees and the underwood which impeded their progress,

were about to scale the side of the mountain, when a loud shout from the

rest of the band, rending the sky, called them back. At the same

moment, a terrific crash, and report of cannon, sending forth a

death-dealing shower of grape, laid many of the foremost low. Arslan

Gherrei turned in the direction from whence the iron shower came; and

calling to some of his retainers to follow, galloped furiously up the

glen, without a moment's hesitation, towards a mound rising slightly

above the stream, on which now appeared a row of light field-pieces,

guarded by a body of Russian troops, who had before been concealed by

the ground they now occupied. At the same moment, the sides of the

mountain, up which their intended route lay, glittered with hostile

bayonets.

Half the Circassian band, raising their terrific war-cry, rushed with

headlong speed, led by their gallant chief, against the guns. The heavy

discharge of musketry which met their advance, did not check them; and,

with irresistible force, they drove the gunners from their posts,

causing the troops to recoil before them. The Russians, panic-stricken

by their shouts, and the impetuosity of their onset, made slight

resistance, as the Circassians, seizing the guns, hurled them with

several of their defenders into the torrent; and were about to follow up

their success against the party of soldiers who guarded the glen, when

they were recalled by a loud shout from their comrades. Turning, they

perceived the opposite side of the stream lined by a strong body of

troops, who, as they passed down, opened a heavy fire on them; while,

from behind every tree which clothed the mountain, appeared more of

their enemies. Turning their horse's heads, they again galloped back,

in spite of the bullets which assailed them, to answer the call of their

friends.