Volume Three—Chapter Three.

Volume Three—Chapter Three.The Circassian chieftains had chosen for the encampment of their irregular but numerous army, a picturesque spot, of which the beauty was much encreased by the wild and warlike bands now filling it. It was in a rich and verdant valley watered by the streams of the Aphibs and the Ubin.By the banks of the latter river the greater part of the tents were pitched beneath the lofty trees; some growing in clumps and others scattered over the meadows as in a highly cultivated park. The ground rose in gentle grassy undulations from the banks of the river, swelling into round hills covered with the richest verdure, on which fed numerous flocks and herds; while, further off, men, women, and children were employed in the agricultural labour of the fields, unimpeded by the presence of the warriors. In the far distance were seen the lofty pinnacles of the Black Mountains.Each chief had selected some spot on which to pitch his tent, as his taste dictated, while their respective clansmen and followers were stationed around them.Here some stalwart chief reposed on the turf in front of his tent, smoking the long chibouque, while looking at his followers engaged in every description of warlike exercise. Some selected a mark on a tree, and, retreating to a distance, fixed their hatchets in it with unerring aim; others hurled the heavy javelin; some the light dart; while numbers, with their bows in hand, were taking sure aim at a greater distance. Some, too, were practising wrestling and running.In one place, the sound of the smith’s anvil and hammer was heard repairing fire-arms for the coming fight. In the river the young men were engaged in teaching their horses to swim across rivers so as to be ready for any sudden excursion into the enemy’s country. Here a troop of gallant young nobles, on their long-tailed swift steeds, were seen scouring along the valleys, and up the sides of the hills. The many coloured and richly-silvered trappings of their horses, and their own jewelled weapons and armour, shone brightly as they appeared amid the trees. It was, in truth, a brilliant, warlike, and exciting scene.The chiefs and nobles were dressed in their complete war array; some in superbly embossed and ornamented armour, of polished steel; others in beautifully wrought chain armour fitting closely to the body, and being pliable to every movement, shewed off their graceful figures to advantage. The lofty plumes of their helms towered far above the heads of their followers, as they moved through the crowd; their jewelled poniards (the insignia of their rank) were placed in girdles richly worked in gold; and all their other arms were also highly ornamented. Some of the venerable elders appeared in turbans and long robes, the garb of peace; and a few nobles wore the simple and elegant tight-fitting coat, richly trimmed with silver lace, and embroidered belts to hold their arms.The army was composed of people of many different tribes and races from all parts of the Caucasus, speaking various languages, having many different customs, with great variations in costume. First, in numbers and bravery, were the tribes of the Attèghèi, consisting of the Abzeki, Khapsoukhi, Nothakhaitze, the Demirghoi, and many others. Bands of the disciplined Lesghians had come from the far off plains bordering on the Caspian, to war with the oppressors of their own country, with whom they there could not venture to compete. There were bands, also, of the nomadic tribes, the short broad-faced Calmuck and the Nogai Tartars. Many warriors, also, had come from Georgia, Mingrelia, and Immeritia, which countries have succumbed to the Russian power, but still bear her the most deadly hatred. Some bands had descended from the wild Alpine retreats of the snowy mountains, wild as the regions they inhabited or the beasts they rode, a small, uncouth, though hardy and active race. These were dark-visaged men, with projecting jaws, and black shaggy beards, mostly clothed in skins, with fur caps, and garments of the roughest materials. Though addicted to roving and predatory habits, they were now animated with the common feeling of hatred to the Urus.There were the tribes of the Tubi and the Ubick; who fought on foot, owing to the inaccessible nature of their mountain-homes, where no horse can find a safe footing, and none can venture but the nimble-footed inhabitants, and the active goats and chamois. They are mostly of gigantic height, with handsome countenances, but fierce in appearance even to wildness, which was not a little increased by their sheep skin turbans, the long white wool of which curled over their face and shoulders. They wore the tight-fitting tunic of the Circassians, over which was thrown a black mantle of goat and sheep skin hair, platted together; while their sandals were formed of the bark of the linden tree. Each man was armed with a hatchet and poniard in his belt, a light gun on his shoulder, while in his hand he carried a weighty and knotted club, furnished at the end with a long steel barb to assist him in crossing streams, or springing from cliff to cliff. It served also as a rest to his gun to take more deadly aim, and as a weapon in the chase, or in his hours of amusement as a toy, to hurl with fearful exactness at a mark.Besides these, came another tribe of foot warriors, of ferocious appearance, from the upper regions of the Black Mountains, bearing large, black, round shields made of wood, strengthened with bands of iron or yew, covered with the hide of the buffalo. These people were armed chiefly with the primitive bow and arrow, with which they can take the most certain aim.There were also some of the fierce Tartar tribes, the most deadly foes to Russia, owing to her usurpation of their country. When driven as exiles and wanderers from their native land, they settled in the before uninhabited and almost inaccessible regions of the Caucasian range. They also wore jackets of skins and fur turbans, adding to the natural ferocity of their countenances. Their arms were broad curving scymitars, and long heavy Greek guns, with pistols and hatchets stuck in their belts, and embroidered with silver.Even Europe furnished many warriors from ill-fated and ruined Poland, who had found refuge and sympathy among the generous mountaineers, to try their swords against the hated Moscov.Among the infantry, the only bands which had any pretension to regular discipline were the Lesghians, who manoeuvre in compact bodies on their own plains, though their style of fighting is not well adapted to the mountain warfare of the Circassians.The followers of the princes and nobles of the Attèghèi were habited much alike, in the tight-fitting elegant tunic, without collar to confine the neck, which was left bare; large trowsers, ornamented girdles, embroidered slippers, or low boots of coloured leather, and the broad-crowned low cap, either of hair, or cloth, or leather, trimmed with fur. All had sabres by their sides and the cama in their belts; but many carried the bow and arrow without fire-arms. The greater number were provided with horses, which they had decked with all the ornaments they could collect.The elders and judges, who had repaired to the camp to give their advice and counsel, wore large white turbans and long vests, and might be seen sedately seated beneath the shade of wide spreading trees, in circles, holding grave debates, their white beards flowing over their breasts, and giving them a grave and venerable appearance. Many of them, who had served in Turkey, retained the costume of that country; adding to the picturesque variety of dress to be found among this congregation of brave warriors.No regular arrangement had been preserved in the formation of the camp; the different bands pitching their tents, or building their leafy shelters where they pleased. Many of the warriors had been followed to the camp by their wives, to attend to their tents and to dress their food: their tall and graceful forms were dressed in flowing robes of varied tints, embroidered with gold and silver, and long white veils falling from their heads as they were seen gliding among the trees.The camp was unfortified; but though a short distance only from the Russian posts, there was no chance of a surprise, as scouts and advanced parties were constantly watching their foes, who could not make the slightest movement without due notice being given. This was the principal camp of the Abasians; but there were others under experienced leaders, along their frontiers towards Anapa, watching the enemy’s castles in that direction.Such was the magnificent spectacle which greeted Selem’s eyes as, in company with his father and Hadji Guz Beg, they descended from a mountain-ridge into the valley of the Ubin, the refulgence of the evening sun throwing a lustre over the animated and exciting scene. As their squires discharged their rifles, numerous chiefs hastened forth from their tents, or from among the thickets and trees, mounting their chargers and galloping to meet their brothers in arms. While they rode on, others came from all directions, greeting with warm congratulations the arrival of the Hadji and Arslan Gherrei; nor were the younger nobles less pleased to see young Alp, who was a favourite with all.The chiefs cast inquiring looks at Selem, and when Arslan Gherrei proudly introduced him as his son, relating his romantic history and recent exploits, loud shouts hailed him as a chief of Circassia. His heart beat with pride at having acquired that glorious appellation, as his brother warriors came forward to grasp his hand in welcome.Their followers assembled under a grove of lofty trees near the river; a few minutes only elapsed since their arrival at the spot, before their tents were erected and every arrangement made for their accommodation.Selem then accompanied his father through the encampment, to learn the proceedings and intentions of the leaders. Various plans of operations had been discussed; but, unfortunately, unanimity did not reign in their councils as to the best mode of proceeding.—The most sagacious were, however, for preventing the large Russian army, which threatened them, from advancing into the interior, without expending their strength in minor exploits: but others were for making excursions into the country of the Cossacks at unguarded posts, while the enemy were elsewhere engaged, and some were for at once storming the Russian forts. Selem saw with grief and pain the sad want of organisation in an army capable, if well directed, of driving back their foes to their own bleak steppes. But they were destitute of artillery and ammunition; and he saw too clearly that no great object could be attained beyond the strict defence of their native mountains. Yet, without some object in view, that vast multitude, unaccustomed to any combined movement, would soon be weary of restraint, and might, in a few hours, melt away like snow before the rays of the sun, and return to their own homes. They required some chief of superior talents, whom all would acknowledge as their commander, to lead them to war; and they would then become invincible. This want their invaders well knew, and reckoned on accordingly.The next morning the sun rose with unclouded splendour over the beautiful valley of the Ubin, cheering the hearts of the assembled warriors with an omen of success. It was the day appointed for a solemn ceremony to take place, namely, the administering an oath, which all the princes, nobles, and leaders of Circassia had agreed to take, never to sheathe their swords, or make terms with the enemy, till he had retired from the neighbourhood of their country; and to sink in oblivion all ancient feuds and animosities among themselves. Many chiefs had already bound themselves by this agreement; but the majority had hitherto kept aloof from taking the oath, as it not only forbade them ever making terms with their foes, but involved the necessity of restoring all property unjustly retained from their countrymen.Contiguous to the camp was a quiet and sequestered dell, with green hills rising close around it, and filled by a grove of lofty and venerable trees: a spot looked upon as sacred from time immemorial. In an open glade, in the centre of the grove, stood the mouldering remains of a stone cross, near which, where the lofty trees threw their cool shadows, now assembled hundreds of noble warrior chiefs. One sentiment, one soul, animated the breasts of all—the most deadly hatred to their foes, and a determination to resist to the very last gasp. Every one of the various tribes and bands, which composed the patriot army, here sent a representative to swear in their name, and to confer on measures for the general advantage.As the princes, nobles, and leaders arrived, they took their seats on the green turf, when, all being assembled, a chief arose from the circle, and advanced towards the centre. His white turban, his long robes, his hoary locks and flowing beard, bespoke his sacred character. In his hands he held a book, which he raised aloft, as he knelt before the cross, and offered up to the all-potent and all-omniscient Being, whom every one present worshipped—whatever their other differences of creed might be—a prayer for the success of the sacred cause of liberty, and for the confusion of their tyrannical foes. Every warrior, bowing his head, reverently responded “Amen!” as the venerable sage ceased his prayer. Still holding the book before him, he rose, and, with a voice, yet deep and sonorous, though at times trembling with age, he exclaimed:—“Noble warriors, chiefs of Circassia—we have this day assembled for a great, for a righteous purpose. It is to bind ourselves, by a solemn compact, to exert all the energies of our souls and bodies to drive hence the fell invaders of our country. Never to sheathe our swords while a foe to Circassia exists near her borders; to sink all private feelings of animosity, and to offer the hand of love and fellowship to all who will join us in this sacred cause. I call on all present to come forward, and to swear on the sacred book I hold, to conquer or die for our country, and to shew the world, what a brave band of brothers, though few in numbers compared to the vast hordes of our opponents, can do for the cause of liberty.”As he finished his address, one of the most influential of the Princes of the Attèghèi advanced, and, reverently kneeling, kissed the book, and took the required oath. His example was followed by others, till the enthusiasm became general, and all rushed eagerly forward to sign the compact. As they took the oath, they formed in circles, grasping each other’s hands, in token of their brotherhood. Those who had never before met, except with their hands on the hilts of their swords, now joined them in the pressure of love and fellowship; and the ardent wish of all, was to be led at once against the common foe.Many, who had arrived too late for the opening of the ceremony, hastened forward from all directions to swear eternal enmity to the Russians. The aged judge again knelt, when all had subscribed the oath, to return thanks to heaven for the concord which reigned throughout the band of patriots; and, as the sacred ceremony concluded, loud shouts rent the air, from the vast concourse of warriors who covered the sides of the hills, and every woodland glade. Had any Russian spy been present, he might have warned his countrymen of the hopelessness of success, in their nefarious attempt to subjugate so resolute a people.

The Circassian chieftains had chosen for the encampment of their irregular but numerous army, a picturesque spot, of which the beauty was much encreased by the wild and warlike bands now filling it. It was in a rich and verdant valley watered by the streams of the Aphibs and the Ubin.

By the banks of the latter river the greater part of the tents were pitched beneath the lofty trees; some growing in clumps and others scattered over the meadows as in a highly cultivated park. The ground rose in gentle grassy undulations from the banks of the river, swelling into round hills covered with the richest verdure, on which fed numerous flocks and herds; while, further off, men, women, and children were employed in the agricultural labour of the fields, unimpeded by the presence of the warriors. In the far distance were seen the lofty pinnacles of the Black Mountains.

Each chief had selected some spot on which to pitch his tent, as his taste dictated, while their respective clansmen and followers were stationed around them.

Here some stalwart chief reposed on the turf in front of his tent, smoking the long chibouque, while looking at his followers engaged in every description of warlike exercise. Some selected a mark on a tree, and, retreating to a distance, fixed their hatchets in it with unerring aim; others hurled the heavy javelin; some the light dart; while numbers, with their bows in hand, were taking sure aim at a greater distance. Some, too, were practising wrestling and running.

In one place, the sound of the smith’s anvil and hammer was heard repairing fire-arms for the coming fight. In the river the young men were engaged in teaching their horses to swim across rivers so as to be ready for any sudden excursion into the enemy’s country. Here a troop of gallant young nobles, on their long-tailed swift steeds, were seen scouring along the valleys, and up the sides of the hills. The many coloured and richly-silvered trappings of their horses, and their own jewelled weapons and armour, shone brightly as they appeared amid the trees. It was, in truth, a brilliant, warlike, and exciting scene.

The chiefs and nobles were dressed in their complete war array; some in superbly embossed and ornamented armour, of polished steel; others in beautifully wrought chain armour fitting closely to the body, and being pliable to every movement, shewed off their graceful figures to advantage. The lofty plumes of their helms towered far above the heads of their followers, as they moved through the crowd; their jewelled poniards (the insignia of their rank) were placed in girdles richly worked in gold; and all their other arms were also highly ornamented. Some of the venerable elders appeared in turbans and long robes, the garb of peace; and a few nobles wore the simple and elegant tight-fitting coat, richly trimmed with silver lace, and embroidered belts to hold their arms.

The army was composed of people of many different tribes and races from all parts of the Caucasus, speaking various languages, having many different customs, with great variations in costume. First, in numbers and bravery, were the tribes of the Attèghèi, consisting of the Abzeki, Khapsoukhi, Nothakhaitze, the Demirghoi, and many others. Bands of the disciplined Lesghians had come from the far off plains bordering on the Caspian, to war with the oppressors of their own country, with whom they there could not venture to compete. There were bands, also, of the nomadic tribes, the short broad-faced Calmuck and the Nogai Tartars. Many warriors, also, had come from Georgia, Mingrelia, and Immeritia, which countries have succumbed to the Russian power, but still bear her the most deadly hatred. Some bands had descended from the wild Alpine retreats of the snowy mountains, wild as the regions they inhabited or the beasts they rode, a small, uncouth, though hardy and active race. These were dark-visaged men, with projecting jaws, and black shaggy beards, mostly clothed in skins, with fur caps, and garments of the roughest materials. Though addicted to roving and predatory habits, they were now animated with the common feeling of hatred to the Urus.

There were the tribes of the Tubi and the Ubick; who fought on foot, owing to the inaccessible nature of their mountain-homes, where no horse can find a safe footing, and none can venture but the nimble-footed inhabitants, and the active goats and chamois. They are mostly of gigantic height, with handsome countenances, but fierce in appearance even to wildness, which was not a little increased by their sheep skin turbans, the long white wool of which curled over their face and shoulders. They wore the tight-fitting tunic of the Circassians, over which was thrown a black mantle of goat and sheep skin hair, platted together; while their sandals were formed of the bark of the linden tree. Each man was armed with a hatchet and poniard in his belt, a light gun on his shoulder, while in his hand he carried a weighty and knotted club, furnished at the end with a long steel barb to assist him in crossing streams, or springing from cliff to cliff. It served also as a rest to his gun to take more deadly aim, and as a weapon in the chase, or in his hours of amusement as a toy, to hurl with fearful exactness at a mark.

Besides these, came another tribe of foot warriors, of ferocious appearance, from the upper regions of the Black Mountains, bearing large, black, round shields made of wood, strengthened with bands of iron or yew, covered with the hide of the buffalo. These people were armed chiefly with the primitive bow and arrow, with which they can take the most certain aim.

There were also some of the fierce Tartar tribes, the most deadly foes to Russia, owing to her usurpation of their country. When driven as exiles and wanderers from their native land, they settled in the before uninhabited and almost inaccessible regions of the Caucasian range. They also wore jackets of skins and fur turbans, adding to the natural ferocity of their countenances. Their arms were broad curving scymitars, and long heavy Greek guns, with pistols and hatchets stuck in their belts, and embroidered with silver.

Even Europe furnished many warriors from ill-fated and ruined Poland, who had found refuge and sympathy among the generous mountaineers, to try their swords against the hated Moscov.

Among the infantry, the only bands which had any pretension to regular discipline were the Lesghians, who manoeuvre in compact bodies on their own plains, though their style of fighting is not well adapted to the mountain warfare of the Circassians.

The followers of the princes and nobles of the Attèghèi were habited much alike, in the tight-fitting elegant tunic, without collar to confine the neck, which was left bare; large trowsers, ornamented girdles, embroidered slippers, or low boots of coloured leather, and the broad-crowned low cap, either of hair, or cloth, or leather, trimmed with fur. All had sabres by their sides and the cama in their belts; but many carried the bow and arrow without fire-arms. The greater number were provided with horses, which they had decked with all the ornaments they could collect.

The elders and judges, who had repaired to the camp to give their advice and counsel, wore large white turbans and long vests, and might be seen sedately seated beneath the shade of wide spreading trees, in circles, holding grave debates, their white beards flowing over their breasts, and giving them a grave and venerable appearance. Many of them, who had served in Turkey, retained the costume of that country; adding to the picturesque variety of dress to be found among this congregation of brave warriors.

No regular arrangement had been preserved in the formation of the camp; the different bands pitching their tents, or building their leafy shelters where they pleased. Many of the warriors had been followed to the camp by their wives, to attend to their tents and to dress their food: their tall and graceful forms were dressed in flowing robes of varied tints, embroidered with gold and silver, and long white veils falling from their heads as they were seen gliding among the trees.

The camp was unfortified; but though a short distance only from the Russian posts, there was no chance of a surprise, as scouts and advanced parties were constantly watching their foes, who could not make the slightest movement without due notice being given. This was the principal camp of the Abasians; but there were others under experienced leaders, along their frontiers towards Anapa, watching the enemy’s castles in that direction.

Such was the magnificent spectacle which greeted Selem’s eyes as, in company with his father and Hadji Guz Beg, they descended from a mountain-ridge into the valley of the Ubin, the refulgence of the evening sun throwing a lustre over the animated and exciting scene. As their squires discharged their rifles, numerous chiefs hastened forth from their tents, or from among the thickets and trees, mounting their chargers and galloping to meet their brothers in arms. While they rode on, others came from all directions, greeting with warm congratulations the arrival of the Hadji and Arslan Gherrei; nor were the younger nobles less pleased to see young Alp, who was a favourite with all.

The chiefs cast inquiring looks at Selem, and when Arslan Gherrei proudly introduced him as his son, relating his romantic history and recent exploits, loud shouts hailed him as a chief of Circassia. His heart beat with pride at having acquired that glorious appellation, as his brother warriors came forward to grasp his hand in welcome.

Their followers assembled under a grove of lofty trees near the river; a few minutes only elapsed since their arrival at the spot, before their tents were erected and every arrangement made for their accommodation.

Selem then accompanied his father through the encampment, to learn the proceedings and intentions of the leaders. Various plans of operations had been discussed; but, unfortunately, unanimity did not reign in their councils as to the best mode of proceeding.—The most sagacious were, however, for preventing the large Russian army, which threatened them, from advancing into the interior, without expending their strength in minor exploits: but others were for making excursions into the country of the Cossacks at unguarded posts, while the enemy were elsewhere engaged, and some were for at once storming the Russian forts. Selem saw with grief and pain the sad want of organisation in an army capable, if well directed, of driving back their foes to their own bleak steppes. But they were destitute of artillery and ammunition; and he saw too clearly that no great object could be attained beyond the strict defence of their native mountains. Yet, without some object in view, that vast multitude, unaccustomed to any combined movement, would soon be weary of restraint, and might, in a few hours, melt away like snow before the rays of the sun, and return to their own homes. They required some chief of superior talents, whom all would acknowledge as their commander, to lead them to war; and they would then become invincible. This want their invaders well knew, and reckoned on accordingly.

The next morning the sun rose with unclouded splendour over the beautiful valley of the Ubin, cheering the hearts of the assembled warriors with an omen of success. It was the day appointed for a solemn ceremony to take place, namely, the administering an oath, which all the princes, nobles, and leaders of Circassia had agreed to take, never to sheathe their swords, or make terms with the enemy, till he had retired from the neighbourhood of their country; and to sink in oblivion all ancient feuds and animosities among themselves. Many chiefs had already bound themselves by this agreement; but the majority had hitherto kept aloof from taking the oath, as it not only forbade them ever making terms with their foes, but involved the necessity of restoring all property unjustly retained from their countrymen.

Contiguous to the camp was a quiet and sequestered dell, with green hills rising close around it, and filled by a grove of lofty and venerable trees: a spot looked upon as sacred from time immemorial. In an open glade, in the centre of the grove, stood the mouldering remains of a stone cross, near which, where the lofty trees threw their cool shadows, now assembled hundreds of noble warrior chiefs. One sentiment, one soul, animated the breasts of all—the most deadly hatred to their foes, and a determination to resist to the very last gasp. Every one of the various tribes and bands, which composed the patriot army, here sent a representative to swear in their name, and to confer on measures for the general advantage.

As the princes, nobles, and leaders arrived, they took their seats on the green turf, when, all being assembled, a chief arose from the circle, and advanced towards the centre. His white turban, his long robes, his hoary locks and flowing beard, bespoke his sacred character. In his hands he held a book, which he raised aloft, as he knelt before the cross, and offered up to the all-potent and all-omniscient Being, whom every one present worshipped—whatever their other differences of creed might be—a prayer for the success of the sacred cause of liberty, and for the confusion of their tyrannical foes. Every warrior, bowing his head, reverently responded “Amen!” as the venerable sage ceased his prayer. Still holding the book before him, he rose, and, with a voice, yet deep and sonorous, though at times trembling with age, he exclaimed:—

“Noble warriors, chiefs of Circassia—we have this day assembled for a great, for a righteous purpose. It is to bind ourselves, by a solemn compact, to exert all the energies of our souls and bodies to drive hence the fell invaders of our country. Never to sheathe our swords while a foe to Circassia exists near her borders; to sink all private feelings of animosity, and to offer the hand of love and fellowship to all who will join us in this sacred cause. I call on all present to come forward, and to swear on the sacred book I hold, to conquer or die for our country, and to shew the world, what a brave band of brothers, though few in numbers compared to the vast hordes of our opponents, can do for the cause of liberty.”

As he finished his address, one of the most influential of the Princes of the Attèghèi advanced, and, reverently kneeling, kissed the book, and took the required oath. His example was followed by others, till the enthusiasm became general, and all rushed eagerly forward to sign the compact. As they took the oath, they formed in circles, grasping each other’s hands, in token of their brotherhood. Those who had never before met, except with their hands on the hilts of their swords, now joined them in the pressure of love and fellowship; and the ardent wish of all, was to be led at once against the common foe.

Many, who had arrived too late for the opening of the ceremony, hastened forward from all directions to swear eternal enmity to the Russians. The aged judge again knelt, when all had subscribed the oath, to return thanks to heaven for the concord which reigned throughout the band of patriots; and, as the sacred ceremony concluded, loud shouts rent the air, from the vast concourse of warriors who covered the sides of the hills, and every woodland glade. Had any Russian spy been present, he might have warned his countrymen of the hopelessness of success, in their nefarious attempt to subjugate so resolute a people.

Volume Three—Chapter Four.Our hero and his friends had spent two days at the camp of the patriot army on the Ubin, without devising any plan of operation, or without any movement taking place among the Russians, when three horsemen were seen riding at headlong speed down the sides of the mountains, towards the camp. The energies of the horses seemed taxed beyond their power. One noble animal fell, throwing his rider stunned before him. The horse of the second came down with tremendous force, after giving three or four bounds, and making fruitless efforts to continue his course; but the third, not stopping to see what had become of his companions, rode furiously on to the camp, whence many chieftains and warriors rushed out to hear the news he brought.The messenger leaped from his steed as he came among them, the gallant beast trembling in every limb, and scarcely able to continue on his legs as he panted with exertion.“Noble chieftains!” cried the messenger, “I bring you dire news from Ghelendjik. Three days ago, a numerous fleet of Russian ships was seen to approach our coasts, from which a mighty army disembarked. It is hoped they will remain some days within their fort to rest from their voyage; but, after that, there can be no doubt they will advance to ravage the country, if a stronger force than is there collected, is not opposed to them. The men of Ghelendjik will do their utmost to stop the invaders; but what can they hope to do against an overpowering force? Our Seraskier, therefore, sent us here with haste to summon some of his friends to join his army.”Among the foremost of the chiefs, who had hastened to meet the messenger, was the gallant Hadji. “Bismillah! not a moment is to be lost then,” he cried, seizing his standard from before his tent, waving it aloft, and again plunging the staff into the ground. “I will hasten with joy to your chieftain’s aid, and we will stop these Urus on their march. Gallant nobles and warriors, whoever among you will bear me company to the aid of our hard-pressed countrymen, let them assemble round this banner within three minutes, and we will away; for, perhaps, before this the Russians may have begun their march. Let those who will, follow.”Saying which, the brave old chief hastened to don his helmet, his squire leading forth his steed; and in less time than he had indicated, he was on horseback by the side of his banner. Alp soon galloped up, followed by Selem, who directly volunteered to accompany his venerable friend, after taking leave of his father, who was obliged to remain. Before the time for starting had arrived, numerous warriors came up from all directions; the news, that an expedition was on foot, having flown like lightning through the camp; so that, within five minutes of the arrival of the messenger, several hundred horsemen had assembled, fully equipped, to follow the Hadji. Again seizing his standard, the Hadji waved it aloft as a signal to march; when giving a loud shout, the band of warriors set off at a quick speed, many others promising to follow.The Hadji led on his followers as fast as they could proceed without exhausting their horses, stopping only at night to rest for a few hours; and before sun-rise they were again in their saddles. Their anxiety to hear some news of the enemy was extreme, for they were now approaching the neighbourhood of the Russian fort; though it was impossible to say in what part of the country they might sally out to commit their depredations.They drew rein on the summit of a mountain, from which they obtained a far-off view of the sea, in the direction of Ghelendjik, and of the intervening hills and valleys, from which, with their glasses, they could perceive wreaths of smoke curling upwards to the clear sky in every direction. Alas! they told a sad tale of destruction going forward! As the Hadji gazed with an anxious eye to discover the cause—“Curses on the fell Giaour!” he exclaimed. “Yonder flames and smoke are their hellish work! See how the burning cottages, and farms, and ripe corn fields of our countrymen, mark the course of our foes. See, they take the passes towards Anapa. Ha! we may yet be in time to stop them before they reach that castle. They will no doubt attempt the passage of the valley of the Zemes; and there the brave Seraskier Manjour Bey will be found in waiting for them. Onward, my friends, we will see what these Moscov are about.”Saying which, the whole party urged their horses down the dizzy mountain’s side, crossing valleys, streams, rocks and hills, in their eagerness to arrive at the scene of action. It was nearly sun-set when they came within hearing of distant and straggling shots; and, surmounting a hill, they perceived in the broad valley below them, the vast Russian force winding its way by the side of a clear stream, which protected one flank.The long and close columns advanced in regular and steady order; their colours waving above their heads, their bands playing animating and lively airs, and their artillery guarding their van and rear. Trains of baggage and ammunition waggons were in the centre, furnished with all the “materiel” for war; while troops of Cossacks scoured the fields on each side, to protect their flanks, and to guard them from a surprise. Here and there might be seen hovering around them, parties of the patriot horsemen, every now and then charging the Cossacks, grappling with their opponents, bearing them off, or cutting them down, ere the Russians could point their howitzers at the assailants.A messenger now arrived who had been sent in search of the Hadji’s party from the Seraskier, then commanding the main body of the Circassians assembled to impede the Russian’s progress. He informed them that this chief had determined to hazard no engagement till the enemy had entered the valley of the Zemes, which they would probably do on the following morning; calling in all stragglers to form an ambuscade, except a few scouts to watch the movements of the foe. The Hadji and his party directly determined to obey the wishes of the General, as did most of the parties who had been engaged in harassing the enemy’s advance; though a few still continued hovering on his flanks.The Hadji and his followers, therefore, turned their horses’ heads in the direction of the spot where their friends were assembled; riding over the summit of the hills, which bounded the valley, till they arrived at the edge of the lofty cliffs forming the sides of the pass or glen of the Zemes. The Seraskier Manjour Bey came forward to welcome the friends who had so opportunely arrived; and led them round to the places where he had posted his men, who were to sleep that night on their arms ready for any sudden movement of the enemy, should they attempt to pass through the gorge under cover of the night; the Hadji placing his followers in other advantageous positions. Behind every rock and bush, on every projecting craig where footing was to be found, were to be seen the athletic forms of the highland warriors, their rifles and bows ready for action, and their ears intent to catch the first notes of the Russian horns in their advance. Many also, in places to which they could lead their horses, were crouching down by the side of the well-trained animals, hidden by the thick brushwood and broken rocks.It was but a small body of mountaineers whom the Hadji and Selem found assembled; they were entirely destitute of artillery, and there was a scarcity of ammunition. They could, therefore, depend alone on their sharp broad swords to contend with the well-trained bands of Europe supplied with all the “materiel” of war. The Hadji was deeply disappointed when he discovered the hopelessness of entirely annihilating the Russian army, as he at first expected; but he determined to gall them, as much as possible, in their march.Here the brave patriot band continued the live-long night in eager expectation; not a word above a whisper being uttered to disturb the dead silence which reigned around. Young Alp remained by his father’s side, as did Selem, for they well knew that where the fight was thickest, there would the gallant old warrior be found. Seated on the soft heather, on a bank rising but a little way above the bottom of the glen, they passed the night, listening to his long tales of war, and his adventures. Our hero, unaccustomed as yet to the night watch, and the bivouac, was worked up to the highest pitch of excitement and expectation; the night seemed interminably protracted; but to the other hardy warriors it was an affair of constant occurrence, though they were, perhaps, no less eager for the issue of the approaching combat, which might be of such vital importance to the liberty of the province of Khapsoukhi.At length, as reclined on the turf, he gazed up into the pure calm sky, dotted with myriads of stars, they seemed to grow fainter and fainter, until he could scarcely distinguish them, amid the blue void. He sprung to his feet; not a sound was heard; the first faint streaks of dawn appeared in the east, yet no one moved from the leafy shelter. The sun rose, a vast globe of living fire, glowing as if in anger at the scene of blood on which his beams were so soon to shine; now throwing a glowing red flame on the dew-besprinkled trees above their heads, soon to be followed by one of still deeper hue.So calm and quiet was the scene, that a traveller might have passed through the glen, unconscious that he was surrounded by hundreds of warriors and their steeds. All were on the tiptoe of expectation; for every moment might bring up the Russian army; when the interest was increased tenfold as the scouts, breaking through the brushwood, spurred their horses up the sides of the glen.“The Urus are advancing! The Urus are advancing!” they cried, as they passed to make their report to the Seraskier, and to take their station within the shelter of the thickets. All things wore again the silence of the grave; then the cheering sounds of drums and fifes came faintly on the breeze, through the windings of the valley; next, the firm tread of the approaching host might be heard; and then appeared the advance guard of the Russian army. Onward they came, regardless of danger. Each of the highland warriors held his breath with eagerness, and more firmly grasped his sword to spring forward on the foe; or kept his finger on the lock of his rifle, or drew his arrow to his ear, prepared for the word of command to commence the work of death.Not a leaf moved, not a whisper was heard, when the advancing column of the Russian force appeared in sight. The leading file came directly below the ambuscade. At this moment, a terrific cry arose from the sides of the glen, reverberating from rock to rock, from craig to craig, down the whole extent of the savage pass.“Come, my sons, now is the moment; we’ll up and be at them. Follow, those who will. Wa Allah! Allah! Allah!” cried the gallant Hadji, springing to his horse. His example was followed by Alp, Selem, and about twenty other warriors, who drew their scymitars as they rushed from the leafy cover; shrieking, rather than shouting their war cry, and dashing among the foremost ranks of the Russians, giving them not a moment to defend themselves.It is necessary to go back a little in our narrative, and explain the cause of this sudden incursion on the part of the Russians. When the brig of war returned to Ghelendjik, bringing the remnant of the garrison, and an account of the loss of the fort, the rage of Baron Galetzoff knew no bounds; especially when he heard that our hero had been one of the most daring leaders, and that Lieutenant Stanisloff had escaped. Again, and again, he renewed his vows of wreaking vengeance on the Circassians, and expressed his determination to capture the two friends at all hazards. Count Erintoff confessed that he had, at first, the intention of putting the Baron’s warrant into execution himself, and dispatching Thaddeus in prison, with his own hands; but the surprise of the mountaineers had been so sudden, that he had barely time to escape with his life. Some time after these events, a fleet arrived with fresh troops to garrison Ghelendjik; and the Baron received orders from the general-in-chief to proceed with a large body of troops by land, to Anapa, through the defiles of the Zemes, from thence to take up his position, and erect a new fort near the Kouban, at no great distance from the spot where the Ubin falls into that river.The Baron marched out of the fort with four or five thousand men under his command, well supplied with all the munitions of war, and was allowed to proceed unmolested through the broader valleys, where his cannon had range enough to play, leaving, as he advanced through the smiling vales, dotted with hamlets, and spread with verdant fields, a long track of ruin and desolation behind him. So suddenly, indeed, had the Russian army sallied out, that the inhabitants had scarce time to drive off their flocks and herds, and remove their valuables, as from a distance they mournfully beheld, but with a keen hope of vengeance, their habitations wantonly committed to the flames. The Russians continued to advance through the open valleys, and through the first part of the defiles of the Zemes, without meeting a foe; the country throughout appealing to be some land of enchantment, so calm and beautiful did it look. They began to congratulate themselves on having awed the natives into peace, and on the hope of being allowed to perform their march without molestation. Towards the evening, indeed, a few Circassians appeared, attacking their flanks, at intervals, like hornets on some huge animal, and flying off, before there was time to send any of their own cavalry to pursue them. The General had ordered the Cossacks to scour the sides of the hills, to prevent the main body from being taken by surprise—a most hazardous service; for, one by one, those who took the outer range disappeared, and their comrades, who went in search of them, shared the same fate; but there was no time to make inquiries.That night the army slept on their arms; before the sun arose on the following morning, they were again on their march. They advanced cautiously through many serpentine windings of a deep gorge; at their feet rushed the surge of a mountain torrent, in whose bright waters the soldiers eagerly slaked their thirst. Not a foe had been seen as onward they marched, the cool morning air refreshing their cheeks, and a deep and solemn silence reigning through the glen.In a moment that scene of quiet and repose was changed into one of carnage and confusion. The foremost ranks fell back, trembling at the sound of the war shout of the mountaineers, as from behind every craig, shrub, and tree, a destructive shower of bullets and arrows fell thick among them. At that instant, a troop of fierce horsemen leaped from amid the rocks, hewing down all who crossed their path; and, ere the cannon could be brought to bear, vanishing on the opposite side.It was the daring band of Guz Beg.“Ya Allah! well done, my sons!” cried the veteran. “My brave Alp, you will not disgrace your father. You cut down those vile Urus as a mower cuts corn with his sickle. Ask what you will of me, my son, and it shall be granted for that one charge. What say you, my friends, shall we be at them again?”Saying which, before there was time to think of the great danger they ran, the Hadji’s band were once more upon the amazed and confused ranks of the foe, scarce recovered from their first panic. They were not this time so fortunate; one of their number fell by the fire which the Russians now opened upon them; and Selem was nearly suffering the same fate, for, as he swept by, he perceived the Count Erintoff in the advance, who spurred on his horse to meet him; but too many men intervened for them to exchange blows; and Selem was obliged to follow his friends, being the last Circassian horseman who reached the covert of the wood.“That will do for the present,” said the Hadji. “But, mashallah! I should like to be among them again. A few charges like that would annihilate their army.”Selem, however, urged him not to attempt the manoeuvre, which involved too great a risk, without advantage, to his valuable life. However, the Hadji and Selem were every where to be seen dashing at the foe, then galloping up the steep sides of the glen.The Russians, stunned with the terrific cries knew not which way to turn. Where they least expected an attack, they found themselves grappled by the active mountaineers, who seemed to leap from the cliffs above their heads, dealing death around them with their sharp broad daggers, then rapidly disappearing among the rocks, leaping from craig to craig, where none could follow. Hundreds were shot down by the silent arrows of their invisible foe; nor, as they gazed with fear around, could they tell whence the shafts proceeded. The soldiers saw their comrades next to them sink down, struck by those winged messengers of death. Their ranks were thinning fast, nor could they defend themselves, nor attack their aggressors; but in these trying moments, the stern discipline, even of slaves, triumphed over their fears, and rescued them from the hands of the most daring and courageous warriors. The officers shewed courage worthy of a nobler and better cause: exerting themselves to the utmost, with calm voices, keeping up the men’s spirits, closing their ranks, and leading them on in order.But could it have been real courage which enabled the men to endure this terrific storm? It was rather a dull and heartless apathy. They saw their fellows fall; and knew that they were released from a life of privation and tyrannical suffering; and cared not if it should be their fate to be the next victims. It mattered but little whether death should come by famine, the sword, or by pestilence; too certainly would they fall by one or the other.The army, with thinned ranks, continued to advance, protected, as they defiled into more open ground, by their light howitzers carried on the backs of horses; every now and then keeping the slender force of their daring assailants at a distance, as they could bring their guns to bear on them. They marched as fast as they were capable of doing; but they were not yet secure; for the Seraskier of the Circassians, a brave, but a sagacious and cautious leader; though he would not allow his followers to attempt competing with the Russians on the plain; attacked their rear and flank incessantly, until, when near Anapa, he was joined by another larger body of the patriots.The whole army of the enemy might now have been destroyed, had the mountaineers possessed artillery. As it was, they escaped destruction solely through the garrison of Anapa making a sortie to their rescue, with artillery and a strong body of Cossacks. The harassed remnant at length reached that fortress.“Mashallah!” cried the old warrior, as he looked angrily towards their retiring columns when they entered the fort; “We’ve repaid them for the surprise they attempted to give your noble father. They will not forget this day’s work, for a long time to come. Allah! if we had some of their light guns, they would not have escaped as they have done. But fear not, my sons, we will meet them again before long.”There seemed every probability that the campaign in this part of the Caucasus would be soon finished for that year. The Hadji, therefore, with his followers, returned to the camp on the Ubin to wait further events.The preceding is a faithful account of the style of warfare the Russians have to engage in with the mountaineers of the Caucasus, in which thousands of their soldiers annually fall victims. But what matters such a loss to the government of St. Petersburg? They have millions of slaves to replace those who fall; and they have resolved to subdue the barbarians in spite of the rivers of innocent blood which may flow. May Heaven grant that the bravery and patriotism of the high-minded and gallant Circassians may be completely triumphant over all the efforts of their slavish and despotic oppressors!

Our hero and his friends had spent two days at the camp of the patriot army on the Ubin, without devising any plan of operation, or without any movement taking place among the Russians, when three horsemen were seen riding at headlong speed down the sides of the mountains, towards the camp. The energies of the horses seemed taxed beyond their power. One noble animal fell, throwing his rider stunned before him. The horse of the second came down with tremendous force, after giving three or four bounds, and making fruitless efforts to continue his course; but the third, not stopping to see what had become of his companions, rode furiously on to the camp, whence many chieftains and warriors rushed out to hear the news he brought.

The messenger leaped from his steed as he came among them, the gallant beast trembling in every limb, and scarcely able to continue on his legs as he panted with exertion.

“Noble chieftains!” cried the messenger, “I bring you dire news from Ghelendjik. Three days ago, a numerous fleet of Russian ships was seen to approach our coasts, from which a mighty army disembarked. It is hoped they will remain some days within their fort to rest from their voyage; but, after that, there can be no doubt they will advance to ravage the country, if a stronger force than is there collected, is not opposed to them. The men of Ghelendjik will do their utmost to stop the invaders; but what can they hope to do against an overpowering force? Our Seraskier, therefore, sent us here with haste to summon some of his friends to join his army.”

Among the foremost of the chiefs, who had hastened to meet the messenger, was the gallant Hadji. “Bismillah! not a moment is to be lost then,” he cried, seizing his standard from before his tent, waving it aloft, and again plunging the staff into the ground. “I will hasten with joy to your chieftain’s aid, and we will stop these Urus on their march. Gallant nobles and warriors, whoever among you will bear me company to the aid of our hard-pressed countrymen, let them assemble round this banner within three minutes, and we will away; for, perhaps, before this the Russians may have begun their march. Let those who will, follow.”

Saying which, the brave old chief hastened to don his helmet, his squire leading forth his steed; and in less time than he had indicated, he was on horseback by the side of his banner. Alp soon galloped up, followed by Selem, who directly volunteered to accompany his venerable friend, after taking leave of his father, who was obliged to remain. Before the time for starting had arrived, numerous warriors came up from all directions; the news, that an expedition was on foot, having flown like lightning through the camp; so that, within five minutes of the arrival of the messenger, several hundred horsemen had assembled, fully equipped, to follow the Hadji. Again seizing his standard, the Hadji waved it aloft as a signal to march; when giving a loud shout, the band of warriors set off at a quick speed, many others promising to follow.

The Hadji led on his followers as fast as they could proceed without exhausting their horses, stopping only at night to rest for a few hours; and before sun-rise they were again in their saddles. Their anxiety to hear some news of the enemy was extreme, for they were now approaching the neighbourhood of the Russian fort; though it was impossible to say in what part of the country they might sally out to commit their depredations.

They drew rein on the summit of a mountain, from which they obtained a far-off view of the sea, in the direction of Ghelendjik, and of the intervening hills and valleys, from which, with their glasses, they could perceive wreaths of smoke curling upwards to the clear sky in every direction. Alas! they told a sad tale of destruction going forward! As the Hadji gazed with an anxious eye to discover the cause—

“Curses on the fell Giaour!” he exclaimed. “Yonder flames and smoke are their hellish work! See how the burning cottages, and farms, and ripe corn fields of our countrymen, mark the course of our foes. See, they take the passes towards Anapa. Ha! we may yet be in time to stop them before they reach that castle. They will no doubt attempt the passage of the valley of the Zemes; and there the brave Seraskier Manjour Bey will be found in waiting for them. Onward, my friends, we will see what these Moscov are about.”

Saying which, the whole party urged their horses down the dizzy mountain’s side, crossing valleys, streams, rocks and hills, in their eagerness to arrive at the scene of action. It was nearly sun-set when they came within hearing of distant and straggling shots; and, surmounting a hill, they perceived in the broad valley below them, the vast Russian force winding its way by the side of a clear stream, which protected one flank.

The long and close columns advanced in regular and steady order; their colours waving above their heads, their bands playing animating and lively airs, and their artillery guarding their van and rear. Trains of baggage and ammunition waggons were in the centre, furnished with all the “materiel” for war; while troops of Cossacks scoured the fields on each side, to protect their flanks, and to guard them from a surprise. Here and there might be seen hovering around them, parties of the patriot horsemen, every now and then charging the Cossacks, grappling with their opponents, bearing them off, or cutting them down, ere the Russians could point their howitzers at the assailants.

A messenger now arrived who had been sent in search of the Hadji’s party from the Seraskier, then commanding the main body of the Circassians assembled to impede the Russian’s progress. He informed them that this chief had determined to hazard no engagement till the enemy had entered the valley of the Zemes, which they would probably do on the following morning; calling in all stragglers to form an ambuscade, except a few scouts to watch the movements of the foe. The Hadji and his party directly determined to obey the wishes of the General, as did most of the parties who had been engaged in harassing the enemy’s advance; though a few still continued hovering on his flanks.

The Hadji and his followers, therefore, turned their horses’ heads in the direction of the spot where their friends were assembled; riding over the summit of the hills, which bounded the valley, till they arrived at the edge of the lofty cliffs forming the sides of the pass or glen of the Zemes. The Seraskier Manjour Bey came forward to welcome the friends who had so opportunely arrived; and led them round to the places where he had posted his men, who were to sleep that night on their arms ready for any sudden movement of the enemy, should they attempt to pass through the gorge under cover of the night; the Hadji placing his followers in other advantageous positions. Behind every rock and bush, on every projecting craig where footing was to be found, were to be seen the athletic forms of the highland warriors, their rifles and bows ready for action, and their ears intent to catch the first notes of the Russian horns in their advance. Many also, in places to which they could lead their horses, were crouching down by the side of the well-trained animals, hidden by the thick brushwood and broken rocks.

It was but a small body of mountaineers whom the Hadji and Selem found assembled; they were entirely destitute of artillery, and there was a scarcity of ammunition. They could, therefore, depend alone on their sharp broad swords to contend with the well-trained bands of Europe supplied with all the “materiel” of war. The Hadji was deeply disappointed when he discovered the hopelessness of entirely annihilating the Russian army, as he at first expected; but he determined to gall them, as much as possible, in their march.

Here the brave patriot band continued the live-long night in eager expectation; not a word above a whisper being uttered to disturb the dead silence which reigned around. Young Alp remained by his father’s side, as did Selem, for they well knew that where the fight was thickest, there would the gallant old warrior be found. Seated on the soft heather, on a bank rising but a little way above the bottom of the glen, they passed the night, listening to his long tales of war, and his adventures. Our hero, unaccustomed as yet to the night watch, and the bivouac, was worked up to the highest pitch of excitement and expectation; the night seemed interminably protracted; but to the other hardy warriors it was an affair of constant occurrence, though they were, perhaps, no less eager for the issue of the approaching combat, which might be of such vital importance to the liberty of the province of Khapsoukhi.

At length, as reclined on the turf, he gazed up into the pure calm sky, dotted with myriads of stars, they seemed to grow fainter and fainter, until he could scarcely distinguish them, amid the blue void. He sprung to his feet; not a sound was heard; the first faint streaks of dawn appeared in the east, yet no one moved from the leafy shelter. The sun rose, a vast globe of living fire, glowing as if in anger at the scene of blood on which his beams were so soon to shine; now throwing a glowing red flame on the dew-besprinkled trees above their heads, soon to be followed by one of still deeper hue.

So calm and quiet was the scene, that a traveller might have passed through the glen, unconscious that he was surrounded by hundreds of warriors and their steeds. All were on the tiptoe of expectation; for every moment might bring up the Russian army; when the interest was increased tenfold as the scouts, breaking through the brushwood, spurred their horses up the sides of the glen.

“The Urus are advancing! The Urus are advancing!” they cried, as they passed to make their report to the Seraskier, and to take their station within the shelter of the thickets. All things wore again the silence of the grave; then the cheering sounds of drums and fifes came faintly on the breeze, through the windings of the valley; next, the firm tread of the approaching host might be heard; and then appeared the advance guard of the Russian army. Onward they came, regardless of danger. Each of the highland warriors held his breath with eagerness, and more firmly grasped his sword to spring forward on the foe; or kept his finger on the lock of his rifle, or drew his arrow to his ear, prepared for the word of command to commence the work of death.

Not a leaf moved, not a whisper was heard, when the advancing column of the Russian force appeared in sight. The leading file came directly below the ambuscade. At this moment, a terrific cry arose from the sides of the glen, reverberating from rock to rock, from craig to craig, down the whole extent of the savage pass.

“Come, my sons, now is the moment; we’ll up and be at them. Follow, those who will. Wa Allah! Allah! Allah!” cried the gallant Hadji, springing to his horse. His example was followed by Alp, Selem, and about twenty other warriors, who drew their scymitars as they rushed from the leafy cover; shrieking, rather than shouting their war cry, and dashing among the foremost ranks of the Russians, giving them not a moment to defend themselves.

It is necessary to go back a little in our narrative, and explain the cause of this sudden incursion on the part of the Russians. When the brig of war returned to Ghelendjik, bringing the remnant of the garrison, and an account of the loss of the fort, the rage of Baron Galetzoff knew no bounds; especially when he heard that our hero had been one of the most daring leaders, and that Lieutenant Stanisloff had escaped. Again, and again, he renewed his vows of wreaking vengeance on the Circassians, and expressed his determination to capture the two friends at all hazards. Count Erintoff confessed that he had, at first, the intention of putting the Baron’s warrant into execution himself, and dispatching Thaddeus in prison, with his own hands; but the surprise of the mountaineers had been so sudden, that he had barely time to escape with his life. Some time after these events, a fleet arrived with fresh troops to garrison Ghelendjik; and the Baron received orders from the general-in-chief to proceed with a large body of troops by land, to Anapa, through the defiles of the Zemes, from thence to take up his position, and erect a new fort near the Kouban, at no great distance from the spot where the Ubin falls into that river.

The Baron marched out of the fort with four or five thousand men under his command, well supplied with all the munitions of war, and was allowed to proceed unmolested through the broader valleys, where his cannon had range enough to play, leaving, as he advanced through the smiling vales, dotted with hamlets, and spread with verdant fields, a long track of ruin and desolation behind him. So suddenly, indeed, had the Russian army sallied out, that the inhabitants had scarce time to drive off their flocks and herds, and remove their valuables, as from a distance they mournfully beheld, but with a keen hope of vengeance, their habitations wantonly committed to the flames. The Russians continued to advance through the open valleys, and through the first part of the defiles of the Zemes, without meeting a foe; the country throughout appealing to be some land of enchantment, so calm and beautiful did it look. They began to congratulate themselves on having awed the natives into peace, and on the hope of being allowed to perform their march without molestation. Towards the evening, indeed, a few Circassians appeared, attacking their flanks, at intervals, like hornets on some huge animal, and flying off, before there was time to send any of their own cavalry to pursue them. The General had ordered the Cossacks to scour the sides of the hills, to prevent the main body from being taken by surprise—a most hazardous service; for, one by one, those who took the outer range disappeared, and their comrades, who went in search of them, shared the same fate; but there was no time to make inquiries.

That night the army slept on their arms; before the sun arose on the following morning, they were again on their march. They advanced cautiously through many serpentine windings of a deep gorge; at their feet rushed the surge of a mountain torrent, in whose bright waters the soldiers eagerly slaked their thirst. Not a foe had been seen as onward they marched, the cool morning air refreshing their cheeks, and a deep and solemn silence reigning through the glen.

In a moment that scene of quiet and repose was changed into one of carnage and confusion. The foremost ranks fell back, trembling at the sound of the war shout of the mountaineers, as from behind every craig, shrub, and tree, a destructive shower of bullets and arrows fell thick among them. At that instant, a troop of fierce horsemen leaped from amid the rocks, hewing down all who crossed their path; and, ere the cannon could be brought to bear, vanishing on the opposite side.

It was the daring band of Guz Beg.

“Ya Allah! well done, my sons!” cried the veteran. “My brave Alp, you will not disgrace your father. You cut down those vile Urus as a mower cuts corn with his sickle. Ask what you will of me, my son, and it shall be granted for that one charge. What say you, my friends, shall we be at them again?”

Saying which, before there was time to think of the great danger they ran, the Hadji’s band were once more upon the amazed and confused ranks of the foe, scarce recovered from their first panic. They were not this time so fortunate; one of their number fell by the fire which the Russians now opened upon them; and Selem was nearly suffering the same fate, for, as he swept by, he perceived the Count Erintoff in the advance, who spurred on his horse to meet him; but too many men intervened for them to exchange blows; and Selem was obliged to follow his friends, being the last Circassian horseman who reached the covert of the wood.

“That will do for the present,” said the Hadji. “But, mashallah! I should like to be among them again. A few charges like that would annihilate their army.”

Selem, however, urged him not to attempt the manoeuvre, which involved too great a risk, without advantage, to his valuable life. However, the Hadji and Selem were every where to be seen dashing at the foe, then galloping up the steep sides of the glen.

The Russians, stunned with the terrific cries knew not which way to turn. Where they least expected an attack, they found themselves grappled by the active mountaineers, who seemed to leap from the cliffs above their heads, dealing death around them with their sharp broad daggers, then rapidly disappearing among the rocks, leaping from craig to craig, where none could follow. Hundreds were shot down by the silent arrows of their invisible foe; nor, as they gazed with fear around, could they tell whence the shafts proceeded. The soldiers saw their comrades next to them sink down, struck by those winged messengers of death. Their ranks were thinning fast, nor could they defend themselves, nor attack their aggressors; but in these trying moments, the stern discipline, even of slaves, triumphed over their fears, and rescued them from the hands of the most daring and courageous warriors. The officers shewed courage worthy of a nobler and better cause: exerting themselves to the utmost, with calm voices, keeping up the men’s spirits, closing their ranks, and leading them on in order.

But could it have been real courage which enabled the men to endure this terrific storm? It was rather a dull and heartless apathy. They saw their fellows fall; and knew that they were released from a life of privation and tyrannical suffering; and cared not if it should be their fate to be the next victims. It mattered but little whether death should come by famine, the sword, or by pestilence; too certainly would they fall by one or the other.

The army, with thinned ranks, continued to advance, protected, as they defiled into more open ground, by their light howitzers carried on the backs of horses; every now and then keeping the slender force of their daring assailants at a distance, as they could bring their guns to bear on them. They marched as fast as they were capable of doing; but they were not yet secure; for the Seraskier of the Circassians, a brave, but a sagacious and cautious leader; though he would not allow his followers to attempt competing with the Russians on the plain; attacked their rear and flank incessantly, until, when near Anapa, he was joined by another larger body of the patriots.

The whole army of the enemy might now have been destroyed, had the mountaineers possessed artillery. As it was, they escaped destruction solely through the garrison of Anapa making a sortie to their rescue, with artillery and a strong body of Cossacks. The harassed remnant at length reached that fortress.

“Mashallah!” cried the old warrior, as he looked angrily towards their retiring columns when they entered the fort; “We’ve repaid them for the surprise they attempted to give your noble father. They will not forget this day’s work, for a long time to come. Allah! if we had some of their light guns, they would not have escaped as they have done. But fear not, my sons, we will meet them again before long.”

There seemed every probability that the campaign in this part of the Caucasus would be soon finished for that year. The Hadji, therefore, with his followers, returned to the camp on the Ubin to wait further events.

The preceding is a faithful account of the style of warfare the Russians have to engage in with the mountaineers of the Caucasus, in which thousands of their soldiers annually fall victims. But what matters such a loss to the government of St. Petersburg? They have millions of slaves to replace those who fall; and they have resolved to subdue the barbarians in spite of the rivers of innocent blood which may flow. May Heaven grant that the bravery and patriotism of the high-minded and gallant Circassians may be completely triumphant over all the efforts of their slavish and despotic oppressors!

Volume Three—Chapter Five.Thaddeus Stanisloff was now perfectly happy. No longer did he hesitate to approach the anderoon, and no longer did Ina fear to meet him; her ear was ever intent to catch his approaching footstep, when, in spite of old Kahija’s frowns, she would start up, and hasten to the gate of the enclosure, for within those sacred precincts, no man dares venture to approach.She did not, however, stop to analyse very clearly her own feelings; but they were so novel, so delightful, so pure, she could not help indulging in them. Thaddeus loved Ina, with the most ardent, tender attachment; and often did he anticipate a life of happiness, passed in her society, amidst the vales and mountains of Circassian when he would teach her the love, religion, and the customs of civilised Europe, and eagerly did she listen to these discourses of her gallant preserver.Still they had not yet talked of love; yet, much did he long to speak in the language of confidence, unrestrained by the presence of the gentle Zara, or the young Conrin.Early one morning, he met his mistress at the gate of the anderoon, fortunately before old Kahija had made her appearance; seizing the opportunity—“Ina,” said he, “I have much of deep and earnest import to communicate; and I would not, that other ears than yours, should listen. Will you deign to meet me then, and hear my words, for here I cannot speak them? Ere the sun has set this evening, will you meet me, Ina, in the sacred grove, near the ruins, over whose shattered fragments the Cross still rears its head triumphant?”“Stranger,” answered Ina, “you are my brother’s trusted friend. I know too from your brave and generous nature, that you would not seek aught from me, that is unbecoming a maiden’s modesty.”“Believe me, you will do no wrong in trusting me. I’ll wait until you can steal from old Kahija’s vigilance. Your page can see you safe, and watch the while we speak, that none intrude. Do you consent, lady?”“I will meet you, noble stranger,” answered Ina, with timidity, and blushing as she spoke. “I know that you will guard me from danger.”“Thanks, Ina, thanks, for your confidence; my life shall answer for your safety!”Thaddeus might, perhaps, at that time have found an opportunity of letting Ina fully understand his devoted love for her; when they were interrupted by the coming of the discreet old Kahija, who considered that the conversation had already endured beyond the bounds of decorum. He was most unwillingly, therefore, obliged to retire, and to pass away the hours in thinking of his mistress; until the old nurse should have gone to the Mosque for evening prayer, when Ina would meet him.The spot Thaddeus had selected, was a beautiful grove situated a little way up the mountain side, which, from time immemorial, had been looked on with veneration, by the inhabitants; because there, according to tradition, their ancestors had formerly worshipped the Great Spirit, and his Son who once visited earth. In his wanderings, Thaddeus had discovered the ruins he mentioned, which were those of a church of considerable size, as appeared by the fragments, still remaining scattered here and there, among the herbage; but many years must have passed since it was reduced to its present state, from the large trees growing amidst the stones.The foot of the cross itself, formed from two large blocks, had been deeply imbedded in a rock, projecting from the mountain’s side. Over the sacred emblem, the trees had formed a sheltering arbour, its existence there being a fit symbol of the Christian religion, standing on the rock amid the ruin and decay even of its own temples and rites.To this spot resorted those, who would ask some special favour of the mighty spirit they worshipped; but, ignorant of him who had chosen it as his emblem, they would fall down in adoration before it; many believing that the spirit himself dwelt within it, and that the stone retained hidden virtues. It was also considered as a sanctuary, which none would dare to violate. Any one followed by his most deadly enemy, who could reach it, might cling to its support and there be safe from vengeance. Even those professing Islamism still held it in veneration. Chaplets of flowers, the votive offerings of the worshippers, were hung on the surrounding trees until they withered away.Thaddeus eagerly hastened to the spot, long ere the time he might expect the coming of his mistress; but he wished to be alone in that sacred place to commune with himself, to dwell upon the anticipation of his bliss should his hopes of her answer be fulfilled. He wandered round the ruins of the once sacred pile; sometimes he feared she could not really love him, and a moment afterwards he felt confident of winning her. Then he threw himself beneath the shade of some tree, and anxiously watched the lengthening shadows; and next he would rise and hasten through the grove, towards the direction whence his mistress should come; but he saw her not. The sun had not yet sunk low enough in the heavens, and he regretted that he had not persuaded her to come at an earlier hour. He again returned, lest, perhaps, she might have passed some other way.Inspired by the solemnity of the spot, he threw himself down before the cross, and offered up his thanksgiving to heaven for his own preservation, and his prayers for future blessings. Deeply absorbed in his devotions, he thought not of the lapse of time; and, as he rose and gazed eagerly around to see if Ina was near, the sun had reached the edge of the mountain, tinging its sides with a saffron hue, and throwing a deep shade at its base. The minutes now passed like hours; he feared something might have prevented her coming; some accident might have befallen her; he thought of the revenge of the Khan and trembled for her safety.As despair was about taking possession of him, at length, his heart bounded as he caught sight of her, moving amid the trees like some benign spirit of the groves. At a little distance from her, followed Conrin, slowly and mournfully; who, on seeing Thaddeus, turned aside.The young lover hastened forward to meet his mistress; he gently took her hand, which she did not withdraw, as he led her to a seat, formed of a broken architrave, beneath the cross. For some minutes neither spoke, as they sat gazing on the rich and smiling valley below them, which was clothed with a soft mellow light; a serene and solemn silence reigned over the whole scene. The lovers felt perfect happiness; they feared to speak, lest a word might break the soft enchantment.Thaddeus turned to Ina, and, gazing on her eyes, so liquid and tender, yet so lustrous, he saw an expression there which gave him courage to speak. “Ina,” he said, “I came to this land a stranger among your people. All my hopes in life were blighted. I had been an imprisoned felon, condemned to death, every instant expecting to die by the hands of my comrades, but was rescued by your brother’s bravery. To him I owe all I now possess: I owe him my life, and—more far more than life—the happiness of seeing you. From the moment I saw you, I loved you; from that moment your image has never been absent from my thoughts. In the ardour of the chase, in the solitude of the night, I have thought alone of you; and oh! the rapture, when I found you were saved from the ruffian who would have torn you from me! Sweetest Ina, I love you!”Ina gazed at him. A sweet smile irradiated her features; her eyes sparkled with animation.“Is it possible?” she said, with an inquiring look. “That you, Thaddeus, accustomed to the magnificence of the cities, and the accomplished beauties of Frangistan, can think of a mountain maid like me, who has never passed her native shores? Perhaps, you spoke but in sport; but no, you would not tamper thus with my heart.”“Ina, could words alone convince you how ardently I love you, I would speak them,” answered Thaddeus; “but no language has fitting words to express my feelings. I would die to save you from harm. Dearest Ina, can you love me?”“Love you? Blessed joy! oh yes! Perhaps, I do not love you as I ought; still I would not that any arm but yours should have saved me from him that would have torn me from you. Do you think I love you now?”“Yes, dearest,” said her lover, folding her in his arms as her head sank upon his neck. “Yes, Ina, by yonder cross I swear to guard you with my life; to love no other but you.”“Indeed ’tis bliss to hear you speak such words,” answered the maid. “A short time ago I thought I loved but one—my honoured father; and then, my brother coming, shared my love; but now I feel my heart too small to hold the love I bear for you. The feelings which I bear for those dear ones I would tell to all the world; but what I feel for you is a treasured secret I would tell to none but you.”“Ina, you are my own,” exclaimed Thaddeus. “Oh never deem that I could share my love for you with any other: the very thought were sacrilege. How ardently have I longed before to say this to you—to learn from your own sweet lips, if you could feel the same for me! But still I feared that I could not be worthy of such love as yours.”We must no longer attempt to describe the words with which the young Pole told the deep feelings of his heart to the pure and gentle Ina. Side by side they sat, nor thought how fast the hours sped. The sun had long gone down, the stars came out glittering in the dark clear blue sky, and the moon arose in pure and tranquil majesty to witness their guiltless love, throwing her silvery beams through the dark trees of the grove. Yet still they lingered, pouring into each other’s ears the words of soft endearment.At length they rose from the spot hallowed for ever in their memory, when a gentle step approached, and young Conrin stood before them. Ina thought she heard a sob. He spoke at last in low and hurried tones—“I came to warn you that night approaches,” he said. “You’ll be sought for anxiously in the hamlet, and great alarm will be felt when you are missed.”“Ah, is it indeed so late?” said Ina. “I thought we had passed but a few minutes here. We will hasten home.”“I will guard you to your home, dear Ina!” said Thaddeus, as he supported her steps.Though both knew that they ought to hasten, yet neither felt any inclination to quicken their pace, as they passed through the sacred grove, and chose, they knew it not, the longest road to the village. They had yet much to say, when they found themselves at the gate of the anderoon. Young Conrin followed slowly, and again they heard that half-stifled sob; but he sought to avoid their observation.They stopped at the gate to whisper many more endearing words; and perhaps they might have spent another hour, fancying it but a minute, had they not been startled by the harsh sounds of Kahija’s voice, who had bustled out in no sweet temper at the long absence of her young charge.“Truly, these are pretty doings for a maiden, to be staying from home at this late hour. What would have been said, had any of the inmates of old Mustapha’s harem, at Stamboul, taken it into their silly heads to wander about in this way? They would soon have found themselves at the bottom of the Bosphorus, I warrant. That is the way young ladies are treated, who misbehave themselves in the only civilised country in the world—and a very proper way too. A pretty example you set my young lady, Zara. I suppose that she, who has always been so correct—thanks to my instructions—will take it into her head next, to go gadding about in the same way. But, I’ll take care she does no such thing I’ll promise her. I hope to see the free manners of the girls, of this country, reformed before I die. It’s quite dreadful, scandalous, to see them wandering about in this independent manner, with their veils thrown off their faces to let everybody stare at them who likes. Come, Sir,” she said, turning to Thaddeus; “I wonder you stay here. I thought you knew that the anderoon was forbidden ground to any man but my lord. I should think you had enough of my lady’s company already.”But Thaddeus felt no inclination to move without speaking a word more of farewell; and old Kahija, having vented some of her wrath; and not being, in reality, ill-natured; saw it was useless opposing an affair, which was, indeed, no business of hers. She therefore turned away for a few minutes, during which time Thaddeus snatched a parting embrace from his mistress, drawing a promise from her to meet him again on the next day.When the old nurse returned, the intruder, much to her satisfaction, was gone. Ina then entered the anderoon, when Zara, throwing aside the embroidery she was engaged on, sprang forward to meet her.“Dear Ina,” she exclaimed, “I feared some other danger had befallen you, that you returned not before.”“No danger could happen to me where I went,” answered Ina; “I was safe from every harm. So lovely an evening to wander out!” she added, with a little pardonable deceit. “I wonder you can bear to be so shut up.”“I, too, should like to wander out to breathe the air of evening,” answered Zara; “but old Kahija will not hear of it.”“What is that you say?” said the old nurse entering. “What! are you trying to teach Zara to follow your own wild customs? But you will not succeed; she is too good a girl to wish to do any thing of the sort. When she marries young Alp Beg, she may do what she can; but she will be shut up close enough then; and so will you, Ina, if you marry a true believer, instead of one of these heathen countrymen of ours.”Happy were the slumbers of Ina that night as she laid her face upon her pillow. She dreamed that again she trod the sacred grove with him she loved—that again she heard his voice speaking those magic words which changed her very being—she felt the pressure of his hand in hers—and she saw the moon rise amidst the trees, the witness of their love.

Thaddeus Stanisloff was now perfectly happy. No longer did he hesitate to approach the anderoon, and no longer did Ina fear to meet him; her ear was ever intent to catch his approaching footstep, when, in spite of old Kahija’s frowns, she would start up, and hasten to the gate of the enclosure, for within those sacred precincts, no man dares venture to approach.

She did not, however, stop to analyse very clearly her own feelings; but they were so novel, so delightful, so pure, she could not help indulging in them. Thaddeus loved Ina, with the most ardent, tender attachment; and often did he anticipate a life of happiness, passed in her society, amidst the vales and mountains of Circassian when he would teach her the love, religion, and the customs of civilised Europe, and eagerly did she listen to these discourses of her gallant preserver.

Still they had not yet talked of love; yet, much did he long to speak in the language of confidence, unrestrained by the presence of the gentle Zara, or the young Conrin.

Early one morning, he met his mistress at the gate of the anderoon, fortunately before old Kahija had made her appearance; seizing the opportunity—

“Ina,” said he, “I have much of deep and earnest import to communicate; and I would not, that other ears than yours, should listen. Will you deign to meet me then, and hear my words, for here I cannot speak them? Ere the sun has set this evening, will you meet me, Ina, in the sacred grove, near the ruins, over whose shattered fragments the Cross still rears its head triumphant?”

“Stranger,” answered Ina, “you are my brother’s trusted friend. I know too from your brave and generous nature, that you would not seek aught from me, that is unbecoming a maiden’s modesty.”

“Believe me, you will do no wrong in trusting me. I’ll wait until you can steal from old Kahija’s vigilance. Your page can see you safe, and watch the while we speak, that none intrude. Do you consent, lady?”

“I will meet you, noble stranger,” answered Ina, with timidity, and blushing as she spoke. “I know that you will guard me from danger.”

“Thanks, Ina, thanks, for your confidence; my life shall answer for your safety!”

Thaddeus might, perhaps, at that time have found an opportunity of letting Ina fully understand his devoted love for her; when they were interrupted by the coming of the discreet old Kahija, who considered that the conversation had already endured beyond the bounds of decorum. He was most unwillingly, therefore, obliged to retire, and to pass away the hours in thinking of his mistress; until the old nurse should have gone to the Mosque for evening prayer, when Ina would meet him.

The spot Thaddeus had selected, was a beautiful grove situated a little way up the mountain side, which, from time immemorial, had been looked on with veneration, by the inhabitants; because there, according to tradition, their ancestors had formerly worshipped the Great Spirit, and his Son who once visited earth. In his wanderings, Thaddeus had discovered the ruins he mentioned, which were those of a church of considerable size, as appeared by the fragments, still remaining scattered here and there, among the herbage; but many years must have passed since it was reduced to its present state, from the large trees growing amidst the stones.

The foot of the cross itself, formed from two large blocks, had been deeply imbedded in a rock, projecting from the mountain’s side. Over the sacred emblem, the trees had formed a sheltering arbour, its existence there being a fit symbol of the Christian religion, standing on the rock amid the ruin and decay even of its own temples and rites.

To this spot resorted those, who would ask some special favour of the mighty spirit they worshipped; but, ignorant of him who had chosen it as his emblem, they would fall down in adoration before it; many believing that the spirit himself dwelt within it, and that the stone retained hidden virtues. It was also considered as a sanctuary, which none would dare to violate. Any one followed by his most deadly enemy, who could reach it, might cling to its support and there be safe from vengeance. Even those professing Islamism still held it in veneration. Chaplets of flowers, the votive offerings of the worshippers, were hung on the surrounding trees until they withered away.

Thaddeus eagerly hastened to the spot, long ere the time he might expect the coming of his mistress; but he wished to be alone in that sacred place to commune with himself, to dwell upon the anticipation of his bliss should his hopes of her answer be fulfilled. He wandered round the ruins of the once sacred pile; sometimes he feared she could not really love him, and a moment afterwards he felt confident of winning her. Then he threw himself beneath the shade of some tree, and anxiously watched the lengthening shadows; and next he would rise and hasten through the grove, towards the direction whence his mistress should come; but he saw her not. The sun had not yet sunk low enough in the heavens, and he regretted that he had not persuaded her to come at an earlier hour. He again returned, lest, perhaps, she might have passed some other way.

Inspired by the solemnity of the spot, he threw himself down before the cross, and offered up his thanksgiving to heaven for his own preservation, and his prayers for future blessings. Deeply absorbed in his devotions, he thought not of the lapse of time; and, as he rose and gazed eagerly around to see if Ina was near, the sun had reached the edge of the mountain, tinging its sides with a saffron hue, and throwing a deep shade at its base. The minutes now passed like hours; he feared something might have prevented her coming; some accident might have befallen her; he thought of the revenge of the Khan and trembled for her safety.

As despair was about taking possession of him, at length, his heart bounded as he caught sight of her, moving amid the trees like some benign spirit of the groves. At a little distance from her, followed Conrin, slowly and mournfully; who, on seeing Thaddeus, turned aside.

The young lover hastened forward to meet his mistress; he gently took her hand, which she did not withdraw, as he led her to a seat, formed of a broken architrave, beneath the cross. For some minutes neither spoke, as they sat gazing on the rich and smiling valley below them, which was clothed with a soft mellow light; a serene and solemn silence reigned over the whole scene. The lovers felt perfect happiness; they feared to speak, lest a word might break the soft enchantment.

Thaddeus turned to Ina, and, gazing on her eyes, so liquid and tender, yet so lustrous, he saw an expression there which gave him courage to speak. “Ina,” he said, “I came to this land a stranger among your people. All my hopes in life were blighted. I had been an imprisoned felon, condemned to death, every instant expecting to die by the hands of my comrades, but was rescued by your brother’s bravery. To him I owe all I now possess: I owe him my life, and—more far more than life—the happiness of seeing you. From the moment I saw you, I loved you; from that moment your image has never been absent from my thoughts. In the ardour of the chase, in the solitude of the night, I have thought alone of you; and oh! the rapture, when I found you were saved from the ruffian who would have torn you from me! Sweetest Ina, I love you!”

Ina gazed at him. A sweet smile irradiated her features; her eyes sparkled with animation.

“Is it possible?” she said, with an inquiring look. “That you, Thaddeus, accustomed to the magnificence of the cities, and the accomplished beauties of Frangistan, can think of a mountain maid like me, who has never passed her native shores? Perhaps, you spoke but in sport; but no, you would not tamper thus with my heart.”

“Ina, could words alone convince you how ardently I love you, I would speak them,” answered Thaddeus; “but no language has fitting words to express my feelings. I would die to save you from harm. Dearest Ina, can you love me?”

“Love you? Blessed joy! oh yes! Perhaps, I do not love you as I ought; still I would not that any arm but yours should have saved me from him that would have torn me from you. Do you think I love you now?”

“Yes, dearest,” said her lover, folding her in his arms as her head sank upon his neck. “Yes, Ina, by yonder cross I swear to guard you with my life; to love no other but you.”

“Indeed ’tis bliss to hear you speak such words,” answered the maid. “A short time ago I thought I loved but one—my honoured father; and then, my brother coming, shared my love; but now I feel my heart too small to hold the love I bear for you. The feelings which I bear for those dear ones I would tell to all the world; but what I feel for you is a treasured secret I would tell to none but you.”

“Ina, you are my own,” exclaimed Thaddeus. “Oh never deem that I could share my love for you with any other: the very thought were sacrilege. How ardently have I longed before to say this to you—to learn from your own sweet lips, if you could feel the same for me! But still I feared that I could not be worthy of such love as yours.”

We must no longer attempt to describe the words with which the young Pole told the deep feelings of his heart to the pure and gentle Ina. Side by side they sat, nor thought how fast the hours sped. The sun had long gone down, the stars came out glittering in the dark clear blue sky, and the moon arose in pure and tranquil majesty to witness their guiltless love, throwing her silvery beams through the dark trees of the grove. Yet still they lingered, pouring into each other’s ears the words of soft endearment.

At length they rose from the spot hallowed for ever in their memory, when a gentle step approached, and young Conrin stood before them. Ina thought she heard a sob. He spoke at last in low and hurried tones—

“I came to warn you that night approaches,” he said. “You’ll be sought for anxiously in the hamlet, and great alarm will be felt when you are missed.”

“Ah, is it indeed so late?” said Ina. “I thought we had passed but a few minutes here. We will hasten home.”

“I will guard you to your home, dear Ina!” said Thaddeus, as he supported her steps.

Though both knew that they ought to hasten, yet neither felt any inclination to quicken their pace, as they passed through the sacred grove, and chose, they knew it not, the longest road to the village. They had yet much to say, when they found themselves at the gate of the anderoon. Young Conrin followed slowly, and again they heard that half-stifled sob; but he sought to avoid their observation.

They stopped at the gate to whisper many more endearing words; and perhaps they might have spent another hour, fancying it but a minute, had they not been startled by the harsh sounds of Kahija’s voice, who had bustled out in no sweet temper at the long absence of her young charge.

“Truly, these are pretty doings for a maiden, to be staying from home at this late hour. What would have been said, had any of the inmates of old Mustapha’s harem, at Stamboul, taken it into their silly heads to wander about in this way? They would soon have found themselves at the bottom of the Bosphorus, I warrant. That is the way young ladies are treated, who misbehave themselves in the only civilised country in the world—and a very proper way too. A pretty example you set my young lady, Zara. I suppose that she, who has always been so correct—thanks to my instructions—will take it into her head next, to go gadding about in the same way. But, I’ll take care she does no such thing I’ll promise her. I hope to see the free manners of the girls, of this country, reformed before I die. It’s quite dreadful, scandalous, to see them wandering about in this independent manner, with their veils thrown off their faces to let everybody stare at them who likes. Come, Sir,” she said, turning to Thaddeus; “I wonder you stay here. I thought you knew that the anderoon was forbidden ground to any man but my lord. I should think you had enough of my lady’s company already.”

But Thaddeus felt no inclination to move without speaking a word more of farewell; and old Kahija, having vented some of her wrath; and not being, in reality, ill-natured; saw it was useless opposing an affair, which was, indeed, no business of hers. She therefore turned away for a few minutes, during which time Thaddeus snatched a parting embrace from his mistress, drawing a promise from her to meet him again on the next day.

When the old nurse returned, the intruder, much to her satisfaction, was gone. Ina then entered the anderoon, when Zara, throwing aside the embroidery she was engaged on, sprang forward to meet her.

“Dear Ina,” she exclaimed, “I feared some other danger had befallen you, that you returned not before.”

“No danger could happen to me where I went,” answered Ina; “I was safe from every harm. So lovely an evening to wander out!” she added, with a little pardonable deceit. “I wonder you can bear to be so shut up.”

“I, too, should like to wander out to breathe the air of evening,” answered Zara; “but old Kahija will not hear of it.”

“What is that you say?” said the old nurse entering. “What! are you trying to teach Zara to follow your own wild customs? But you will not succeed; she is too good a girl to wish to do any thing of the sort. When she marries young Alp Beg, she may do what she can; but she will be shut up close enough then; and so will you, Ina, if you marry a true believer, instead of one of these heathen countrymen of ours.”

Happy were the slumbers of Ina that night as she laid her face upon her pillow. She dreamed that again she trod the sacred grove with him she loved—that again she heard his voice speaking those magic words which changed her very being—she felt the pressure of his hand in hers—and she saw the moon rise amidst the trees, the witness of their love.

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