Volume Two—Chapter Four.

Volume Two—Chapter Four.The territory of the Circassian tribes is bounded on the north by the River Kouban, which separates it from the lands now inhabited by the Tchernemorskoi Cossacks, whom the Russians—after utterly annihilating the former inhabitants, (not using the words in a figurative sense)—placed there as a rough and sturdy outwork to their empire. From the mouths of the Kouban it is bounded by the Black Sea, the coast trending from the north-west to the south-east as far as Iscuria, on the mouth of the Salamache River, which separates it on the south from the province of Mingrelia, now nominally subject to Russia. To the south-east is the former kingdom of Georgia, now also brought under subjection to the same benign and far reaching power. To the north-east, the sources of the Kouban and some of its numerous mountain tributaries pass through its present borders, the plains beyond having been conquered by Russia. To the east, the boundaries are uncertain, depending on those natural fortifications, the inaccessible cliffs of the Caucasus; but the tribes even to the very shores of the Caspian, have set their invaders at defiance, and have joined the league of the patriot Circassians.Circassia Proper is divided into Lower Abasia to the north, bordering on the Kouban, and Upper Abasia to the south; the inhabitants of the former being by far the most civilised and polished of the two, though both equally cordial in detestation of their invaders. These two divisions are again separated into provinces, those of Nottakhaotzi, Khapsoukhi, Bredoukha, and of the Demirghoi, in Lower Abasia, which is the part of the country to which we are about to introduce our readers. The tribes keep distinct from each other, though the members of each live scattered about in all parts of the country.The whole of the independent part of Circassia is mountainous, that alone having: been able to withstand the immensely superior force which the Russians brought against them; but the tribes of the plains equally hate their conquerors, and take every opportunity of escaping to join their still free countrymen. Indeed, the whole, or greater part, of some tribes have migrated to the mountains to be released from Russian oppression, leaving their homes, their fields, and their property, to ruin and destruction.There are no cities or towns in Circassia; the inhabitants preferring the freedom and health of a mountain life to the trammels and formality of the city, and each chief choosing the most beautiful and romantic spot for his habitation, while his followers and dependents collect in hamlets in the neighbourhood.The principal rivers falling into the Kouban are the Kara Kouban, the Ubin, the Aranos, the Laba, and the Urup; those which empty themselves into the Black Sea are the Sukhoi, the Mezi, near the Russian Fort Ghelendjik, the Toughe, the Soubachi, which divides Upper and Lower Abasia, the Kenehili, the Llhena, the Kodos, and the Salmache, which separates the country from Mingrelia. Numerous other streams and rivulets meander through the whole country, and fertilise every vale.At the time to which our story refers, the Russians had succeeded in erecting several forts in the boundaries of the country; those of Anapa and Ghelendjik on the coast, both built under the protection of a powerful army, aided by the guns from their ship. They have established also a line of fortified towns to the north of the Kouban, the principal of which are Ekatermodar, Labinskai, Stavrapol, Alexandrof, and Georgivesk, forming a road of communication from the Black Sea towards the Caspian, called the Valdi Caucasse. But even between these towns the Russians cannot move except with a strong escort, as otherwise they would run the greatest risk of being cut off by the mountaineers, who descending from their fastnesses, frequently make excursions far beyond them. There are also other forts of less importance, which will be mentioned in the course of our history.The origin of the Circassians, like that of all nations who have tradition alone to hand down their history, is clouded in obscurity. They themselves do not pretend to know from what race they are sprung, but it is certain that they are of very great antiquity, and have in all ages been celebrated for their bravery and other warlike qualities, their courtesy, and the surpassing beauty of their women. At one period they inhabited an extended tract of territory, comprising the Crimea, and all the country bordering on the Sea of Marmora and the Euxine; but the tribes dwelling in that country either became amalgamated with the Tartars, or were driven thence by the superior numbers of that people, as the pure stock is now only to be found among the mountains of the Caucasus, or in the plains immediately below them.It seems probable, that the Circassians are of Median extraction, and were at one time as civilised as any of the surrounding nations, if not more so: but it must be confessed that they have not advanced, even with the same steps in the arts and sciences as their neighbours; though they retain in a greater degree the polished and courteous manners, and heroic virtues which formed the pride of the nations of antiquity. The tribes which boast of belonging to the purer race, unmixed with any foreign blood, distinguish themselves by the name of Attèghèi, and as in Great and Little Karbadia, their language is spoken with the greatest purity. Those provinces have most likely from time immemorial, been inhabited by the true Circassians, who thence scattered themselves over the surrounding districts, either by conquest, or by finding the land unoccupied.The people to whom we give the general name of Circassians, call themselves Attèghèi; some writers mention them as Carbadians, from their former country of Karbadia, while the Turks and Russians call them without distinction, Abasians.There are four classes of society among them, the first, that of the Pchees or Princes, who are the heads of the most powerful tribes; the Ouzdens or nobles, many of whom, at present, have no real power, but who disdain to intermix their blood with those below them; the Tocavs or Freemen, many of whom possess wealth, and are, except in blood, equal to the nobles; and lastly, the serfs, or slaves taken in war, who in time become incorporated into the tribes of their masters, and may gain their freedom. The power of the Princes has of late years much declined, though they are treated with the strictest observances of respect, by those of inferior rank.In some tribes, the chiefs are hereditary, while in others, a head is chosen among the principal nobles of their own tribe, for his life, except he should prove incapable, in which case he is deposed, and another elected in his stead. At times also, instead of the head of the tribe, a leader is chosen to conduct them to war, while the former acts in a civil capacity alone.In no country is greater respect shewn by inferiors to those above them in rank or age; and in no country has the spirit of clanship been carried further, all being bound to revenge the death of one of their tribe on the slayer; and, should the offender not be given up, on the life of any member of his family; the Lex Talionis, being indeed the principal law of the land, as it must be in all countries, where there is no fixed government to dispense justice.The government, indeed, such as it is, may be looked upon rather as a Republic, than as an Oligarchy; for those of all ranks may give their opinion, and vote at the public meetings, though the princes and chiefs of clans have the most influence, and their sentiments are looked upon with the greatest respect. Perhaps, no country is more free, or governed with so much regularity and order.Each man may if oppressed, leave his chief, and put himself under the protection of another; changing his lands at will to any spot he may find unoccupied, no one having the right of keeping lands he does not cultivate. Though, for many generations, they have remained under successive descendants of the same chief; they are bound by no other tie, than that of love and respect, while so carefully does each class guard its own privileges, that no chief has ever succeeded in uniting the whole under his own authority.Their laws are few and simple, exactly suited to their state of society, and so strictly enforced, that they are comparatively rarely infringed; each tribe being answerable for the crimes of any individual member, who consequently offends equally against his own friends. All claims are settled by a jury, composed of six members from the respective tribes, and are generally arranged by payment of fines, two hundred head of oxen, being the fine for manslaughter, and so on for theft, abduction, etc. Should the fine not be paid by the time agreed on, the sufferers carry off the cattle, and destroy the fences and fields of the offenders.It must be understood, that these tribes of the Attèghèi are not distinct races, but merely families who have been, perhaps for ages, bound together by a solemn oath, to support each other in every way, forming a brotherhood, as it were, who consider themselves so nearly related, that they may not even intermarry with each other.The religious faith of the people, is formed of a belief in one omnipotent Being, and in the immortality of the soul; but they have no established priests. The elders and most venerable chiefs, or those most noted for piety, together with their aged bards, perform the few and simple ceremonies of religion. Their place of worship is in some secluded grove of aged and lofty trees, held sacred for ages by their ancestors, whose tombs lie around them.Let our readers ask themselves, if such worship is not more likely to be grateful to the Divine Being, than the gross superstition and bigoted idolatry of the benighted Russian, who scarcely knows the name of his Maker.There is not the slightest doubt, but that Christianity was at one time the prevailing religion of the country, as there are numerous crosses in all parts, still looked up to with veneration by the people; and there are the ruins also of several churches. It is said, that in some parts of the interior of the more remote districts of Upper Abasia, the people still profess Christianity unmixed with any Pagan observances.The Circassians divide the week as among us, considering Sunday as the most sacred day. Easter is celebrated by them as a holy feast, with the utmost pomp, beginning with a strict fast. They have several saints or inferior deities, guardians, they say, of the air, water, the harvest, the summer, in whose honour they hold festivals at stated seasons, as in Catholic countries; particularly one, which they celebrate much in the same manner as the feast of St. John, in some parts of Germany, by decking a tree with flowers, lights, and other ornaments. Except on these particular days, they do not pay their presiding guardians any attention, nor even then, do they pray to them, but offer up sacrifices by immolating victims on an altar, according to the old Pagan custom of Greece and Rome. They meet in the sacred groves to pray before going to battle, and after a victory.No religious ceremonies take place at their marriages, the couple being alone betrothed in the presence of their friends, (as is now the lawful way of coupling people in civilised England) when a feast is given, and games take place.The burial ceremonies, even of a chief or warrior, are simple, consisting of a funeral oration, pronounced over his grave, while hymns are sung by those who attend the procession to his last resting-place. The anniversary of his death is celebrated with feasts, and prayers over his tomb, decked with flowers.Mahometism has of late years been introduced into the Caucasus by the Turks, and some mosques have been established, but it has not gained much ground; their ancient institutions being too deeply rooted in the affections of the people, though numbers now profess it, but conform to its customs, as far only as their inclination leads them.The Circassians are, in general, a most abstemious people, living chiefly on a farinaceous diet, and though possessing spirituous liquors and wine, they use them in moderation, indulging in them, as well as in meat, only on their great feasts.They are hospitable in an unbounded degree, their guest-houses ever standing open for the reception of visitors, but they have been taught, by the vilest treachery, too often practised against them by the instigation of the Russians, to be suspicious of strangers coming without a recommendation to them. Any one, however, who may visit their country under the protection of one of their chiefs, they are ready to protect to the utmost with their lives, each noble vieing with the other in paying their guest attention.They have the deepest veneration for age, listening to the counsels of their elders, and obeying their commands.To the female sex also, they pay the most chivalrous devotion. Their minstrel’s highest theme, next to their warrior’s deeds, is the praise of woman’s charms, and the proudest noble treats the lowly maiden with every consideration and respect, nor thinks himself demeaned in aiding her in any occupation in which she may be engaged.The lower orders are in the habit of sending their daughters to the Constantinopolitan matrimonial market, (for so it is to them,) receiving, however, some valuable consideration, to insure their safe arrival there. The Circassians also take every precaution to hear continually of the welfare of their daughters in Turkey; nor do they ever compel them to go against their will, or, as in the more civilised countries of Europe, drive them to contract a hateful marriage, or offer them the dreadful alternative of being immured for life in a convent. The nobles never allow their daughters to marry, except with one of their own rank, and when they send them to Stamboul, it is to become the chief sultana of some Pacha’s harem, an arrangement the fair girls consider the happiest fate which could befall them, though exchanging the liberty of their mountains for riches, splendour, and a prison, but gaining what they never could at home, entire liberty, on the death of their lord, and frequently considerable wealth. The Circassian girls are much prized in the Turkish harems, beyond their beauty, for their various useful and ornamental accomplishments.We have said that there are no towns, the people living in villages, hamlets, or detached dwellings. The houses consist only of a ground floor, built of wood plastered over, and neatly thatched. The dwelling of a chief consists of several separate divisions: the anderoon, or women’s apartments; that of the lord himself; and the guest-house; besides the houses of the servants, the granaries, and stables for the horses and cattle.It is curious to see the interior of what appears a humble cottage, filled with rich couches of silk, magnificent Turkey carpets, splendid armour and weapons, inlaid tables and other valuable articles.Some of the villages are fortified, but in a manner to afford no protection against cannon. They are generally situated by the side of some limpid stream, and in the most picturesque situations.They speak a language entirely different from any other known tongue; but Turkish and Arabic is understood by many of their chiefs, who have served in Turkey and Egypt. Several also have been in the Russian service; but have returned to their native country to defend her rights, in preference to indulging in luxury and ease under a despot.They say that their fighting men amount to two hundred thousand; but every man amongst them is a warrior.The arts are at a very low ebb among them, though they possess the greatest skill in forging their armour and weapons, which they emboss beautifully. They also work in gold and silver embroidery; but it must be confessed they are totally ignorant of science, nor have they even a written language, and very few among them can read Turkish, though they pay the greatest respect to the Koran, with which they administer their oaths.They are very industrious, having brought their lands into the highest state of cultivation, thus enabling them within a small extent of country, aided by the fertility of the soil, to support a large population. The farms are kept with the greatest neatness, and surrounded with thriving orchards. They possess also large flocks and herds.On all public occasions and when engaged in war, the chiefs wear complete suits of splendid armour, much like that of the ancient Persians, from whose country they sometimes procure it at the present day. On a foray, when activity is most requisite, and they wish not to be distinguished from their followers, they have under their ordinary dress, light coats of chain armour of most exquisite workmanship, many of which are made in the country, and others come from Persia. They possess rifles and pistols, but many still use the long bow and arrow, with which they can take the most deadly aim. They have also long swords, and the broad two-edged dagger, such as was used by the Romans of old, a most murderous weapon in their hands. They use also a sharp straight sabre without a guard to the hilt. The ordinary dress of all classes is elegant and picturesque.There are numerous wild animals in Circassia, such as bears, wolves, jackals, and stags, which the people eagerly hunt. Their horses are celebrated for speed and strength, and they are perhaps the most expert horsemen in the world.We will now sum up the character of the Circassians. No one, even their enemies, can deny that they possess the most heroic bravery and undaunted courage, the most devoted love of liberty, are hospitable to the utmost of their means, generous in the extreme, virtuous in their lives, and abstemious in their habits; that they venerate age, are courteous and gentle to their women, polished in their manners to each other, more especially to strangers, humane to their prisoners, have a firm reliance on the goodness of the divinity, a deep sense of religion, and the strictest regard to an oath, which is inviolable among them; and yet, this being no highly coloured or overdrawn character, these are the people, whom the Russian stigmatise as untameable barbarians, whom it will be a benefit to the human race to sweep from the face of the earth.

The territory of the Circassian tribes is bounded on the north by the River Kouban, which separates it from the lands now inhabited by the Tchernemorskoi Cossacks, whom the Russians—after utterly annihilating the former inhabitants, (not using the words in a figurative sense)—placed there as a rough and sturdy outwork to their empire. From the mouths of the Kouban it is bounded by the Black Sea, the coast trending from the north-west to the south-east as far as Iscuria, on the mouth of the Salamache River, which separates it on the south from the province of Mingrelia, now nominally subject to Russia. To the south-east is the former kingdom of Georgia, now also brought under subjection to the same benign and far reaching power. To the north-east, the sources of the Kouban and some of its numerous mountain tributaries pass through its present borders, the plains beyond having been conquered by Russia. To the east, the boundaries are uncertain, depending on those natural fortifications, the inaccessible cliffs of the Caucasus; but the tribes even to the very shores of the Caspian, have set their invaders at defiance, and have joined the league of the patriot Circassians.

Circassia Proper is divided into Lower Abasia to the north, bordering on the Kouban, and Upper Abasia to the south; the inhabitants of the former being by far the most civilised and polished of the two, though both equally cordial in detestation of their invaders. These two divisions are again separated into provinces, those of Nottakhaotzi, Khapsoukhi, Bredoukha, and of the Demirghoi, in Lower Abasia, which is the part of the country to which we are about to introduce our readers. The tribes keep distinct from each other, though the members of each live scattered about in all parts of the country.

The whole of the independent part of Circassia is mountainous, that alone having: been able to withstand the immensely superior force which the Russians brought against them; but the tribes of the plains equally hate their conquerors, and take every opportunity of escaping to join their still free countrymen. Indeed, the whole, or greater part, of some tribes have migrated to the mountains to be released from Russian oppression, leaving their homes, their fields, and their property, to ruin and destruction.

There are no cities or towns in Circassia; the inhabitants preferring the freedom and health of a mountain life to the trammels and formality of the city, and each chief choosing the most beautiful and romantic spot for his habitation, while his followers and dependents collect in hamlets in the neighbourhood.

The principal rivers falling into the Kouban are the Kara Kouban, the Ubin, the Aranos, the Laba, and the Urup; those which empty themselves into the Black Sea are the Sukhoi, the Mezi, near the Russian Fort Ghelendjik, the Toughe, the Soubachi, which divides Upper and Lower Abasia, the Kenehili, the Llhena, the Kodos, and the Salmache, which separates the country from Mingrelia. Numerous other streams and rivulets meander through the whole country, and fertilise every vale.

At the time to which our story refers, the Russians had succeeded in erecting several forts in the boundaries of the country; those of Anapa and Ghelendjik on the coast, both built under the protection of a powerful army, aided by the guns from their ship. They have established also a line of fortified towns to the north of the Kouban, the principal of which are Ekatermodar, Labinskai, Stavrapol, Alexandrof, and Georgivesk, forming a road of communication from the Black Sea towards the Caspian, called the Valdi Caucasse. But even between these towns the Russians cannot move except with a strong escort, as otherwise they would run the greatest risk of being cut off by the mountaineers, who descending from their fastnesses, frequently make excursions far beyond them. There are also other forts of less importance, which will be mentioned in the course of our history.

The origin of the Circassians, like that of all nations who have tradition alone to hand down their history, is clouded in obscurity. They themselves do not pretend to know from what race they are sprung, but it is certain that they are of very great antiquity, and have in all ages been celebrated for their bravery and other warlike qualities, their courtesy, and the surpassing beauty of their women. At one period they inhabited an extended tract of territory, comprising the Crimea, and all the country bordering on the Sea of Marmora and the Euxine; but the tribes dwelling in that country either became amalgamated with the Tartars, or were driven thence by the superior numbers of that people, as the pure stock is now only to be found among the mountains of the Caucasus, or in the plains immediately below them.

It seems probable, that the Circassians are of Median extraction, and were at one time as civilised as any of the surrounding nations, if not more so: but it must be confessed that they have not advanced, even with the same steps in the arts and sciences as their neighbours; though they retain in a greater degree the polished and courteous manners, and heroic virtues which formed the pride of the nations of antiquity. The tribes which boast of belonging to the purer race, unmixed with any foreign blood, distinguish themselves by the name of Attèghèi, and as in Great and Little Karbadia, their language is spoken with the greatest purity. Those provinces have most likely from time immemorial, been inhabited by the true Circassians, who thence scattered themselves over the surrounding districts, either by conquest, or by finding the land unoccupied.

The people to whom we give the general name of Circassians, call themselves Attèghèi; some writers mention them as Carbadians, from their former country of Karbadia, while the Turks and Russians call them without distinction, Abasians.

There are four classes of society among them, the first, that of the Pchees or Princes, who are the heads of the most powerful tribes; the Ouzdens or nobles, many of whom, at present, have no real power, but who disdain to intermix their blood with those below them; the Tocavs or Freemen, many of whom possess wealth, and are, except in blood, equal to the nobles; and lastly, the serfs, or slaves taken in war, who in time become incorporated into the tribes of their masters, and may gain their freedom. The power of the Princes has of late years much declined, though they are treated with the strictest observances of respect, by those of inferior rank.

In some tribes, the chiefs are hereditary, while in others, a head is chosen among the principal nobles of their own tribe, for his life, except he should prove incapable, in which case he is deposed, and another elected in his stead. At times also, instead of the head of the tribe, a leader is chosen to conduct them to war, while the former acts in a civil capacity alone.

In no country is greater respect shewn by inferiors to those above them in rank or age; and in no country has the spirit of clanship been carried further, all being bound to revenge the death of one of their tribe on the slayer; and, should the offender not be given up, on the life of any member of his family; the Lex Talionis, being indeed the principal law of the land, as it must be in all countries, where there is no fixed government to dispense justice.

The government, indeed, such as it is, may be looked upon rather as a Republic, than as an Oligarchy; for those of all ranks may give their opinion, and vote at the public meetings, though the princes and chiefs of clans have the most influence, and their sentiments are looked upon with the greatest respect. Perhaps, no country is more free, or governed with so much regularity and order.

Each man may if oppressed, leave his chief, and put himself under the protection of another; changing his lands at will to any spot he may find unoccupied, no one having the right of keeping lands he does not cultivate. Though, for many generations, they have remained under successive descendants of the same chief; they are bound by no other tie, than that of love and respect, while so carefully does each class guard its own privileges, that no chief has ever succeeded in uniting the whole under his own authority.

Their laws are few and simple, exactly suited to their state of society, and so strictly enforced, that they are comparatively rarely infringed; each tribe being answerable for the crimes of any individual member, who consequently offends equally against his own friends. All claims are settled by a jury, composed of six members from the respective tribes, and are generally arranged by payment of fines, two hundred head of oxen, being the fine for manslaughter, and so on for theft, abduction, etc. Should the fine not be paid by the time agreed on, the sufferers carry off the cattle, and destroy the fences and fields of the offenders.

It must be understood, that these tribes of the Attèghèi are not distinct races, but merely families who have been, perhaps for ages, bound together by a solemn oath, to support each other in every way, forming a brotherhood, as it were, who consider themselves so nearly related, that they may not even intermarry with each other.

The religious faith of the people, is formed of a belief in one omnipotent Being, and in the immortality of the soul; but they have no established priests. The elders and most venerable chiefs, or those most noted for piety, together with their aged bards, perform the few and simple ceremonies of religion. Their place of worship is in some secluded grove of aged and lofty trees, held sacred for ages by their ancestors, whose tombs lie around them.

Let our readers ask themselves, if such worship is not more likely to be grateful to the Divine Being, than the gross superstition and bigoted idolatry of the benighted Russian, who scarcely knows the name of his Maker.

There is not the slightest doubt, but that Christianity was at one time the prevailing religion of the country, as there are numerous crosses in all parts, still looked up to with veneration by the people; and there are the ruins also of several churches. It is said, that in some parts of the interior of the more remote districts of Upper Abasia, the people still profess Christianity unmixed with any Pagan observances.

The Circassians divide the week as among us, considering Sunday as the most sacred day. Easter is celebrated by them as a holy feast, with the utmost pomp, beginning with a strict fast. They have several saints or inferior deities, guardians, they say, of the air, water, the harvest, the summer, in whose honour they hold festivals at stated seasons, as in Catholic countries; particularly one, which they celebrate much in the same manner as the feast of St. John, in some parts of Germany, by decking a tree with flowers, lights, and other ornaments. Except on these particular days, they do not pay their presiding guardians any attention, nor even then, do they pray to them, but offer up sacrifices by immolating victims on an altar, according to the old Pagan custom of Greece and Rome. They meet in the sacred groves to pray before going to battle, and after a victory.

No religious ceremonies take place at their marriages, the couple being alone betrothed in the presence of their friends, (as is now the lawful way of coupling people in civilised England) when a feast is given, and games take place.

The burial ceremonies, even of a chief or warrior, are simple, consisting of a funeral oration, pronounced over his grave, while hymns are sung by those who attend the procession to his last resting-place. The anniversary of his death is celebrated with feasts, and prayers over his tomb, decked with flowers.

Mahometism has of late years been introduced into the Caucasus by the Turks, and some mosques have been established, but it has not gained much ground; their ancient institutions being too deeply rooted in the affections of the people, though numbers now profess it, but conform to its customs, as far only as their inclination leads them.

The Circassians are, in general, a most abstemious people, living chiefly on a farinaceous diet, and though possessing spirituous liquors and wine, they use them in moderation, indulging in them, as well as in meat, only on their great feasts.

They are hospitable in an unbounded degree, their guest-houses ever standing open for the reception of visitors, but they have been taught, by the vilest treachery, too often practised against them by the instigation of the Russians, to be suspicious of strangers coming without a recommendation to them. Any one, however, who may visit their country under the protection of one of their chiefs, they are ready to protect to the utmost with their lives, each noble vieing with the other in paying their guest attention.

They have the deepest veneration for age, listening to the counsels of their elders, and obeying their commands.

To the female sex also, they pay the most chivalrous devotion. Their minstrel’s highest theme, next to their warrior’s deeds, is the praise of woman’s charms, and the proudest noble treats the lowly maiden with every consideration and respect, nor thinks himself demeaned in aiding her in any occupation in which she may be engaged.

The lower orders are in the habit of sending their daughters to the Constantinopolitan matrimonial market, (for so it is to them,) receiving, however, some valuable consideration, to insure their safe arrival there. The Circassians also take every precaution to hear continually of the welfare of their daughters in Turkey; nor do they ever compel them to go against their will, or, as in the more civilised countries of Europe, drive them to contract a hateful marriage, or offer them the dreadful alternative of being immured for life in a convent. The nobles never allow their daughters to marry, except with one of their own rank, and when they send them to Stamboul, it is to become the chief sultana of some Pacha’s harem, an arrangement the fair girls consider the happiest fate which could befall them, though exchanging the liberty of their mountains for riches, splendour, and a prison, but gaining what they never could at home, entire liberty, on the death of their lord, and frequently considerable wealth. The Circassian girls are much prized in the Turkish harems, beyond their beauty, for their various useful and ornamental accomplishments.

We have said that there are no towns, the people living in villages, hamlets, or detached dwellings. The houses consist only of a ground floor, built of wood plastered over, and neatly thatched. The dwelling of a chief consists of several separate divisions: the anderoon, or women’s apartments; that of the lord himself; and the guest-house; besides the houses of the servants, the granaries, and stables for the horses and cattle.

It is curious to see the interior of what appears a humble cottage, filled with rich couches of silk, magnificent Turkey carpets, splendid armour and weapons, inlaid tables and other valuable articles.

Some of the villages are fortified, but in a manner to afford no protection against cannon. They are generally situated by the side of some limpid stream, and in the most picturesque situations.

They speak a language entirely different from any other known tongue; but Turkish and Arabic is understood by many of their chiefs, who have served in Turkey and Egypt. Several also have been in the Russian service; but have returned to their native country to defend her rights, in preference to indulging in luxury and ease under a despot.

They say that their fighting men amount to two hundred thousand; but every man amongst them is a warrior.

The arts are at a very low ebb among them, though they possess the greatest skill in forging their armour and weapons, which they emboss beautifully. They also work in gold and silver embroidery; but it must be confessed they are totally ignorant of science, nor have they even a written language, and very few among them can read Turkish, though they pay the greatest respect to the Koran, with which they administer their oaths.

They are very industrious, having brought their lands into the highest state of cultivation, thus enabling them within a small extent of country, aided by the fertility of the soil, to support a large population. The farms are kept with the greatest neatness, and surrounded with thriving orchards. They possess also large flocks and herds.

On all public occasions and when engaged in war, the chiefs wear complete suits of splendid armour, much like that of the ancient Persians, from whose country they sometimes procure it at the present day. On a foray, when activity is most requisite, and they wish not to be distinguished from their followers, they have under their ordinary dress, light coats of chain armour of most exquisite workmanship, many of which are made in the country, and others come from Persia. They possess rifles and pistols, but many still use the long bow and arrow, with which they can take the most deadly aim. They have also long swords, and the broad two-edged dagger, such as was used by the Romans of old, a most murderous weapon in their hands. They use also a sharp straight sabre without a guard to the hilt. The ordinary dress of all classes is elegant and picturesque.

There are numerous wild animals in Circassia, such as bears, wolves, jackals, and stags, which the people eagerly hunt. Their horses are celebrated for speed and strength, and they are perhaps the most expert horsemen in the world.

We will now sum up the character of the Circassians. No one, even their enemies, can deny that they possess the most heroic bravery and undaunted courage, the most devoted love of liberty, are hospitable to the utmost of their means, generous in the extreme, virtuous in their lives, and abstemious in their habits; that they venerate age, are courteous and gentle to their women, polished in their manners to each other, more especially to strangers, humane to their prisoners, have a firm reliance on the goodness of the divinity, a deep sense of religion, and the strictest regard to an oath, which is inviolable among them; and yet, this being no highly coloured or overdrawn character, these are the people, whom the Russian stigmatise as untameable barbarians, whom it will be a benefit to the human race to sweep from the face of the earth.

Volume Two—Chapter Five.The now calm, glass-like waters shone with a rich glow of orange tint reflected from the sky, as the sun rose in majestic glory from his ocean bed. The sails of the Turkish bark caught the radiance, as, impelled by a gentle air, she glided through the sea of molten gold.As the deep glow gradually faded from the horizon, leaving a clear view of the ocean’s margin, the man from the mast-head shouted in tones of delight, “Abasa! Abasa! land! land! the land of Circassia!” The effect was electrical. All on board turned their gaze towards the east. The Hadji and the devout Mahometans ceased from their morning prayer; the seamen mounted the rigging; and, as a light gauze-like veil of mist was drawn up to the sky, the blue mountains of the lofty Caucasian range appeared just rising above the waters in the far distance.Ivan’s heart beat with enthusiastic delight as he gazed on the land of his birth, the land of all his most romantic aspirations. The accomplishment of his eager wishes—the fulfilment of his vow—would not much longer be deferred. His earnest gaze was fixed on the scene, as mountain after mountain, and hill after hill, rose to view.As the zebeque glided swiftly towards land, the more minute details of the landscape could be distinguished; mountains of every fantastic form were seen piled one on another, clothed with verdure from the bright water’s edge to the topmost peak, where they seemed lost in the pure blue sky. Trees of various foliage bent over precipitous and rugged cliffs, bounding a smiling valley, through which meandered a sparkling stream; by its banks grazed herds of cattle while numerous horses galloped in unrestrained freedom over the velvet lawn.The zebeque had made the shore rather too far to the south of their destination, and as she coasted calmly along, Ivan gazed with enraptured and untiring eye on the lovely scene. Far as the eye could reach, up the sides of the steep sloping hills, numerous flocks of white sheep were seen quietly grazing, and from craig to craig, bounded nimbly with long and slender limbs the jet black goats.He looked on the unostentatious abodes of his countrymen, their little cots built on the slopes of the gently swelling hills, amid fields of ripening corn, their farm yards surrounded by groves of trees covered with fruit, from among which the thin smoke from their domestic hearths curled upward in wreathy pillars. All around appeared the abodes of contentment and peace—how sadly deceitful and treacherous. In another day all might be laid waste, and a howling desert usurp its place.The lately dignified Hadji, excited to the most enthusiastic delight, walked the deck with the activity of youth, pointing out to Ivan the names of the different little inlets, bays, valleys, and mountains as they coasted along.They were saluted too, as they passed, by many a band of warriors, hastening towards the scene of strife in the north, where their invaders had landed. Many a gallant chief, in his war array, his bright armour glittering in the sun, galloped by, waving his shining sword to salute them, attended by a band of followers, shouting defiance to their foes, and singing hymns of victory.No one seemed to enter into Ivan’s feelings so well as young Conrin, whose eyes brightened with delight unusual to him as he gazed ever and anon at his master’s countenance: and then turned them towards the lovely scene, whose beauties he seemed to enjoy the more that they were seen by one he loved.The spot where the Reis had appointed to land was near the Bay of Pchad, in sight of which they soon came. Here a dense forest covered, with thickest foliage, both the mountain side and the shore to the very water’s edge, affording a secure shelter to the inhabitants, should any of their enemies attempt to land in order to destroy their vessels. The zebeque ran boldly on towards the smooth yellow sand, almost overshadowed by the trees; and as she neared the shore, a man, whose glittering armour and helmet, decked with an eagle’s plume, betokened him a chieftain, approached the water, mounted on a coal-black steed, and urging the noble animal up to his girths into the sea, he waved his sword, and courteously beckoned to the strangers to land. Having saluted them, he again slowly and with dignity retired from the shore.As the vessel’s keel almost touched the sand, her anchor was let go, her sails being quickly furled by her eager crew, delighted at thus having brought their hazardous adventure to a successful issue. In a moment, she was surrounded by boats from the shore, to lighten her of her cargo ere she was drawn up on the beach beneath the shelter of the trees.Into the first the Hadji, our hero, and his two followers stepped; and as her bow touched the strand of Circassia, the natives flocked around, eager to welcome the strangers to their shores.Ivan’s heart leaped with joy as his foot touched his native land; and he would have knelt down in gratitude to heaven, and kissed the soil he had so eagerly longed to tread, but that the presence of the surrounding multitude prevented his giving way to his feelings. For an instant, then, that sensation of blankness, of loneliness, that unsatisfied feeling, which sometimes comes over us, when we fancy that our desires are accomplished, seized him, and oppressed his spirits, as accompanied by his two retainers, he followed the Hadji towards the spot to which the chieftain had retired.No sooner did the latter see the Hadji approaching, than he leaped from his steed, which his squire held while he hastened to meet him. The two aged men, for the noble warrior seemed far advanced in years, rushed forward; their dignity thrown aside, and falling on each other’s necks, they embraced and almost wept for joy.“My brother!” exclaimed the aged chief; “hast thou, indeed, again returned to me from thy long and perilous pilgrimage among strange people? Do I again see the noble pride of our race in life and strength? Allah be praised for all his mercies!”“Yes, my brother!” rejoined the Hadji, “yes, Allah is merciful. I have escaped all dangers, and my heart rejoices to see you still able to bear arms against our foes; but say, my brother, how fares my son Alp, my well-loved young son? Does the boy live? Does he still follow up the early promise of his youth?”“Your son, my brother, is well worthy of your name. He still dwells with his Attalick; but being well skilled in all martial exercises, he is now able to follow you to the field, and has already gained some honour against the enemy. It will rejoice your heart to see him, and you will seem to live your youth over again as you recognise yourself in him.”“To Allah and his prophet be all praise,” replied the Hadji, piously. “Then am I content. But say, my brother, does my wife still live to rejoice in the growing promise of our son?”“Yes, yes, she still lives.”“Allah be praised!” again ejaculated the Hadji. “And say, does my sister still live; does she also rejoice in the noble deeds of your gallant sons? Are they yet numbered among the stern bulwarks of our country? Do their steeds yet carry them like thunder-bolts against the foe?”The old warrior shook his head.“Alas! my brother, the leaden death of the hated Urus (the name the Circassians give to the Russians) have laid two in the graves of our fathers, where they sleep the sleep of the brave; but the rest yet remain to avenge their fate.”“God is great,” answered the Hadji, “and by his prophet’s help we will yet take ample vengeance on their destroyers.”“Allah is merciful, and will give us blood for blood,” replied the other. “But think not that they died ere they had made their foes pay dearly for their death. No, hundreds of the slavish Urus fell before their conquering sabres; and in that thought, I cease to mourn, but yet what are the lives of a thousand Urus to one true son of the Attèghèi?”“Bosh! as nothing. As chaff to corn, as dross to pure gold; but we will avenge them brother,” said the Hadji, grasping his sword. “My heart will beat with joy, when I find myself once more among their ranks.”“That may soon be; for their ships, but a short time ago, landed a large force on the coast to the north, who are yet shut up in their fort. But say, who are these strangers who accompany you? What do they here?”“In the first joyful moment of meeting you I thought not of them, but will now attend to the duties of hospitality,” And introducing Ivan, the Hadji added, “I bring with me, one who is our countryman, my adopted son, next to Alp in my love; regard him as such, for my sake.”“To me he will always be welcome,” replied the chief, taking Ivan by the hand. “And I will believe that he is worthy to be a true son of the Attèghèi. But come, we will waste no further time here. He and his attendants shall accompany us, while some of my followers shall stay to bring up your goods from the vessel. We will at once repair to the dwelling of the noble Prince of Pchad, whither I was bound, when I saw your vessel approaching the land. He will welcome you with the arms of friendship. Away, my Deli Khans,” he cried, addressing several young men who surrounded him. “Give notice to the noble Prince of our coming, and say, moreover, that some strangers accompany us.”The Chieftain, and his brother, the Hadji led the way from the sea shore, accompanied by Ivan, and followed by a numerous band of active young mountaineers, each completely armed, with a gun slung on his back, a sword by his side, and a dagger in his belt, to which several had added pistols. Their dress consisted of a coat, fitting close to the body, of dark cloth trimmed with silver, without a collar, and open at the neck, secured by loops in front, and having long hanging sleeves; the skirts reached completely round to the knees, wide trowsers of a darkish green colour, tightening at the calf, embroidered boots of dressed leather, and belts round their waists of the same. Their bonnets were of sheepskin or dark cloth. Altogether the costume was elegant and picturesque.The party proceeded for a short distance through a thick grove, on a gentle slope, which soon terminated in rough cliffs rising abruptly from the lower ground, under the shelter of wide-spreading beech trees of vast height, and of venerable oaks, extending their leafy boughs, almost to the water’s edge. They soon arrived at the entrance of a beautiful valley, which extended in a winding course far inland. After passing some way through it, they were entirely shut in by rocky cliffs, or steep, almost precipitous hills, yet clothed with the graceful linden, the dark leaved mulberry, the magnificent chestnut, the dark and silvery olive, and many other trees; and as they wound their way up the steep sides of the hills, they passed beneath natural arbours of the high creeping vine, and the graceful hop, which twined their slender tendrils from tree to tree, and from peak to peak.The distant scenery was still hidden by the leafy shelter, when a successive discharge of fire arms was heard, and as they emerged from the thickets into an open space on the summit of the hill, a party of young cavaliers was seen galloping towards them at desperate speed, flourishing their swords, and firing off their pistols, and uttering shouts of congratulation and welcome; to which the old chief’s party answered when the others rushing forward, joined their ranks.A beautiful village of low cottages scattered among the trees now appeared. Apart from the rest, and having greater pretentions to architectural grandeur, stood a dwelling, surrounded with several other buildings appertaining to it. From the principal gate-way in the fence, which enclosed it, was seen advancing towards the party, a personage, whose appearance struck Ivan with admiration. His long, flowing, and blanched beard, the deep lines which furrowed his expressive countenance, and his attenuated figure, bespoke him a man far advanced in the vale of years, though his eye still glowed with some of the fire of youth. He walked erect and firm, clothed in complete armour, with helmet on head, cuirass and cuisses of polished steel plates richly embossed, as with a noble and dignified air, he advanced to meet his guests, and to welcome them to his home.He courteously pressed their hands. “Welcome, my noble friend,” he said, addressing the chief, “and you, oh venerable Hadji, who by the blessing of Allah, have returned from your travels, to bring wisdom and knowledge to our country. Welcome also to these strangers, who, under thy protection, I will receive as my sons and friends. My house, and all whom Mahmood commands, are at your orders—”“Most noble Prince,” replied the Hadji, as spokesman of the party, “not the least of my happiness in returning again to my loved country, is to see you still alive, and ruling your people with wisdom and justice. Gladly will we partake of your well-known hospitality.”Saying which, the Hadji led the way to the guest-house, to which the Prince pointed, following himself in the rear of the party, who entering, took their seats on broad cushions or ottomans, which surrounded the room; their arms being hung up on the walls by attendants in waiting. The aged host would not take a seat, till the Hadji and his brother had earnestly pressed him to do so.“Rest here awhile,” he said, “till my women can prepare food to refresh you after your voyage. Do not imagine, that though daily threatened by a descent of our deadly enemy, I cannot, as in other days, prepare a banquet for a thousand or more of our gallant warriors, if they should honour me by a visit.”The conversation now became general. The Hadji had many inquiries to make, and much to relate; and as the time wore on, several nobles of lesser rank, and importance in the neighbourhood, and subject to the Prince of Pchad, entered, and took their seats on the Divan. Ivan was silent, listening with interest to the conversation, while his two attendants stood respectfully among the others at the further end of the room.The subject of discourse then turned entirely on the state of the country; the Uzden Achmet Beg, the Hadji’s brother, giving him an account of the different military operations which had occurred since the commencement of the campaign.“Bismillah!” exclaimed the old chief. “We have well beaten the cursed Urus, whenever we could catch them beyond the shelter of their fortresses, where we coop them up like so many sheep in their pens. They talk of occupying our country; why, they have in all but three or four forts in it, which they can only hold by means of their fleet; and which we could capture any day we liked. Except Anapa, which we care no more for, than a dog chained to his kennel, who barks without reaching us to bite, they have only Ghelendjik, and another small fort near the sea, and Aboon at the head of the Kouban, where we close them in, and have nearly starved them to death. But as they can do no harm there, we do not choose to risk losing many valuable lives to take it. They once attempted to establish one of their colonies and forts at Soudjouk Kalie; but that time we were prepared for them. We rushed down upon them like a troop of wolves into a sheep fold, ere they could throw up their fortifications, and carried away one half of their people to till our own fields; while the rest we drove into the sea, where their ships picked them up. They found it was no use attempting to sow corn where they would never be allowed to reap, so they sailed away; and with the blessings of Allah, we will soon make them do the like from all parts of the country.”“Allah be praised, we will soon accomplish that work,” exclaimed the Hadji. “My heart yearns to be among them again, with my true sword in my hand, in the loving way I used to treat them. Bismillah! we must make a foray among them, just to take the rust off our weapons. What say you, my son?” turning to Ivan, “will you try the strength of your arm on the hard heads of the Urus, and strike your first blow for the liberty of your country?”“Gladly will I accompany you, my noble friend,” said Ivan. “I should not wish to serve under a better leader, for you well know how ardently I long to prove myself worthy of the race from which I have sprung.”“Then, by the favour of Allah,” replied the Hadji, “before long, I will lead the way among their ranks, and we will then see what stuff they are made of, by cutting them to pieces. They are slaves and curs. Their mothers and fathers are dogs.”The conversation was interrupted by the entrance of several male and female slaves bearing a repast. The dishes were placed on small wooden tables, about a foot high, before each person, as they sat round the room on the ottoman. The host himself handed to every guest a cup of light mead, a ceremony preliminary to the repast. He would not be seated until he had performed this courtesy; nor would he join the meal, notwithstanding his advanced age, till repeatedly urged by the party to do so. The servants stood round to attend to the wants of each guest:The repast consisted of mutton, dressed in a variety of ways; fat poultry, pastry, preserves, and fruit, commencing with a bowl of rich and savoury soup, with spoons placed for every person to help themselves; after which, each man drew a small knife from his girdle, to commence the attack.Before the attendants had cleared away the tables, the aged Prince arose, and filling his cup with mead, drank to the health of all present in turns.“By what name shall I address my young stranger guest?” he asked, turning to Ivan. “Though he speaks with the tongue of our people, and his eagle glance, and lofty stature, betoken him to be a noble, yet know I not his name. Say, under what appellation shall he dwell in the memory of Mahmood Indar?”“Noble Prince,” replied Ivan, rising from his seat, “you speak truly, though I am, I trust, of the pure race of the Attèghèi. Name have I none. I love not the one I have borne for many years, therefore, I give it not, and the noble name I long to bear, I give not, until I have done some deeds, to shew myself worthy of the race from which I deem myself sprung; that my kindred should not say, when I claim their love, that I am no true scion of their stock. This I have sworn by the bright heaven above us. My noble friend, the Hadji Guz Beg, has offered to shew the way among the ranks of our foes, and I have sworn to follow him, even to the cannon’s mouth.”All applauded this speech, the Hadji springing forward to embrace him. “I see, my second son, that you will prove a true Circassian,” he cried, “and by the blessing of Allah, by to-morrow’s dawn, we will proceed in search of our foes: to-night, we will rest under the roof of our noble host.”“Happy am I to receive so gallant a warrior as you have proved yourself, oh! Hadji; and honoured am I in such guests as you and your friends,” answered the Prince.The repast being concluded, the party strolled out among rich and fertile meadows, sloping from the house down to a pure and glassy rivulet. An orchard of various fruit trees surrounded the dwelling, while, before it, grew some magnificent chestnut trees, under whose grateful shade the old noble loved to sit, surrounded by his youthful descendants, enjoying their gambols on the grass.In the neighbourhood of the house were the farm yards and granaries, stored with all kinds of corn, the produce of the surrounding highly-cultivated fields. On the mountain’s brow grazed his numerous flocks, and in the rich meadows below his herds of fat cattle.Our hero had parted from his companions, when the page sought his side; and as Ivan’s eye fell on the boy, he exclaimed—“Conrin, do you find yourself sad and solitary among so many strange people?”“Ah, no!” answered the page, “I cannot be sad or solitary when in your presence.”“Do you then come to congratulate me on having, at length, arrived in the land of my hopes?” asked Ivan.“Yes, Sir, yes; whatever gives you pleasure makes my heart beat with joy; and may your utmost hopes be now fulfilled!”“Thanks, page; but still my heart is full of fears. I know not, nor dare I ask, if yet my father lives. Why do you sigh, boy? Does the name of father cause you thus to sigh?”“Alas, Sir, I never knew one: the name sounds like mockery on my ear. The kind and noble friend, whom I thought my father, I found was not so; and yet I feared to ask who was.”“’Tis strange,” said Ivan. “And your mother, boy?”“Alas, Sir!” said the page, “the kind and gentle care of her, who was my mother, I never knew.”The boy’s eyes filled with tears.“I would I had not asked you, boy, about your parents, to make you weep thus: but dry your tears; I will supply the place of both your parents, as much as in my power lies; and you shall share my fortunes, which, I trust, will lead to happiness.”In a moment the boy’s eyes brightened, as he gazed up into Ivan’s face, with an inquiring and searching glance, yet radiating with smiles of joy.“’Tis that alone I ask to do,” he replied. “To follow your fortunes through good or evil, in happiness or misery. Still speak to me in words like those you just now uttered, and they will repay me all the hardships I may endure.”“I could not speak harsh words to one so unprotected as you are. Now tell me, what think you of my countrymen? Are they like the wild barbarians the Russians would have taught the world to think them? But, thank heaven! they yet may learn how true courage can oppose its arms to tyranny, though backed by hosts of slaves.”“I did not think to find them as they are,” replied the boy; “more courteous far, and hospitable, than the people of the land whence we came. True valour sits in the eye, even of the lowest of the multitude.”“You praise them well, good page, but justly,” replied Ivan. “But see, the party move towards the house. We must go in. Keep by my side, as you see the pages of the nobles do.”

The now calm, glass-like waters shone with a rich glow of orange tint reflected from the sky, as the sun rose in majestic glory from his ocean bed. The sails of the Turkish bark caught the radiance, as, impelled by a gentle air, she glided through the sea of molten gold.

As the deep glow gradually faded from the horizon, leaving a clear view of the ocean’s margin, the man from the mast-head shouted in tones of delight, “Abasa! Abasa! land! land! the land of Circassia!” The effect was electrical. All on board turned their gaze towards the east. The Hadji and the devout Mahometans ceased from their morning prayer; the seamen mounted the rigging; and, as a light gauze-like veil of mist was drawn up to the sky, the blue mountains of the lofty Caucasian range appeared just rising above the waters in the far distance.

Ivan’s heart beat with enthusiastic delight as he gazed on the land of his birth, the land of all his most romantic aspirations. The accomplishment of his eager wishes—the fulfilment of his vow—would not much longer be deferred. His earnest gaze was fixed on the scene, as mountain after mountain, and hill after hill, rose to view.

As the zebeque glided swiftly towards land, the more minute details of the landscape could be distinguished; mountains of every fantastic form were seen piled one on another, clothed with verdure from the bright water’s edge to the topmost peak, where they seemed lost in the pure blue sky. Trees of various foliage bent over precipitous and rugged cliffs, bounding a smiling valley, through which meandered a sparkling stream; by its banks grazed herds of cattle while numerous horses galloped in unrestrained freedom over the velvet lawn.

The zebeque had made the shore rather too far to the south of their destination, and as she coasted calmly along, Ivan gazed with enraptured and untiring eye on the lovely scene. Far as the eye could reach, up the sides of the steep sloping hills, numerous flocks of white sheep were seen quietly grazing, and from craig to craig, bounded nimbly with long and slender limbs the jet black goats.

He looked on the unostentatious abodes of his countrymen, their little cots built on the slopes of the gently swelling hills, amid fields of ripening corn, their farm yards surrounded by groves of trees covered with fruit, from among which the thin smoke from their domestic hearths curled upward in wreathy pillars. All around appeared the abodes of contentment and peace—how sadly deceitful and treacherous. In another day all might be laid waste, and a howling desert usurp its place.

The lately dignified Hadji, excited to the most enthusiastic delight, walked the deck with the activity of youth, pointing out to Ivan the names of the different little inlets, bays, valleys, and mountains as they coasted along.

They were saluted too, as they passed, by many a band of warriors, hastening towards the scene of strife in the north, where their invaders had landed. Many a gallant chief, in his war array, his bright armour glittering in the sun, galloped by, waving his shining sword to salute them, attended by a band of followers, shouting defiance to their foes, and singing hymns of victory.

No one seemed to enter into Ivan’s feelings so well as young Conrin, whose eyes brightened with delight unusual to him as he gazed ever and anon at his master’s countenance: and then turned them towards the lovely scene, whose beauties he seemed to enjoy the more that they were seen by one he loved.

The spot where the Reis had appointed to land was near the Bay of Pchad, in sight of which they soon came. Here a dense forest covered, with thickest foliage, both the mountain side and the shore to the very water’s edge, affording a secure shelter to the inhabitants, should any of their enemies attempt to land in order to destroy their vessels. The zebeque ran boldly on towards the smooth yellow sand, almost overshadowed by the trees; and as she neared the shore, a man, whose glittering armour and helmet, decked with an eagle’s plume, betokened him a chieftain, approached the water, mounted on a coal-black steed, and urging the noble animal up to his girths into the sea, he waved his sword, and courteously beckoned to the strangers to land. Having saluted them, he again slowly and with dignity retired from the shore.

As the vessel’s keel almost touched the sand, her anchor was let go, her sails being quickly furled by her eager crew, delighted at thus having brought their hazardous adventure to a successful issue. In a moment, she was surrounded by boats from the shore, to lighten her of her cargo ere she was drawn up on the beach beneath the shelter of the trees.

Into the first the Hadji, our hero, and his two followers stepped; and as her bow touched the strand of Circassia, the natives flocked around, eager to welcome the strangers to their shores.

Ivan’s heart leaped with joy as his foot touched his native land; and he would have knelt down in gratitude to heaven, and kissed the soil he had so eagerly longed to tread, but that the presence of the surrounding multitude prevented his giving way to his feelings. For an instant, then, that sensation of blankness, of loneliness, that unsatisfied feeling, which sometimes comes over us, when we fancy that our desires are accomplished, seized him, and oppressed his spirits, as accompanied by his two retainers, he followed the Hadji towards the spot to which the chieftain had retired.

No sooner did the latter see the Hadji approaching, than he leaped from his steed, which his squire held while he hastened to meet him. The two aged men, for the noble warrior seemed far advanced in years, rushed forward; their dignity thrown aside, and falling on each other’s necks, they embraced and almost wept for joy.

“My brother!” exclaimed the aged chief; “hast thou, indeed, again returned to me from thy long and perilous pilgrimage among strange people? Do I again see the noble pride of our race in life and strength? Allah be praised for all his mercies!”

“Yes, my brother!” rejoined the Hadji, “yes, Allah is merciful. I have escaped all dangers, and my heart rejoices to see you still able to bear arms against our foes; but say, my brother, how fares my son Alp, my well-loved young son? Does the boy live? Does he still follow up the early promise of his youth?”

“Your son, my brother, is well worthy of your name. He still dwells with his Attalick; but being well skilled in all martial exercises, he is now able to follow you to the field, and has already gained some honour against the enemy. It will rejoice your heart to see him, and you will seem to live your youth over again as you recognise yourself in him.”

“To Allah and his prophet be all praise,” replied the Hadji, piously. “Then am I content. But say, my brother, does my wife still live to rejoice in the growing promise of our son?”

“Yes, yes, she still lives.”

“Allah be praised!” again ejaculated the Hadji. “And say, does my sister still live; does she also rejoice in the noble deeds of your gallant sons? Are they yet numbered among the stern bulwarks of our country? Do their steeds yet carry them like thunder-bolts against the foe?”

The old warrior shook his head.

“Alas! my brother, the leaden death of the hated Urus (the name the Circassians give to the Russians) have laid two in the graves of our fathers, where they sleep the sleep of the brave; but the rest yet remain to avenge their fate.”

“God is great,” answered the Hadji, “and by his prophet’s help we will yet take ample vengeance on their destroyers.”

“Allah is merciful, and will give us blood for blood,” replied the other. “But think not that they died ere they had made their foes pay dearly for their death. No, hundreds of the slavish Urus fell before their conquering sabres; and in that thought, I cease to mourn, but yet what are the lives of a thousand Urus to one true son of the Attèghèi?”

“Bosh! as nothing. As chaff to corn, as dross to pure gold; but we will avenge them brother,” said the Hadji, grasping his sword. “My heart will beat with joy, when I find myself once more among their ranks.”

“That may soon be; for their ships, but a short time ago, landed a large force on the coast to the north, who are yet shut up in their fort. But say, who are these strangers who accompany you? What do they here?”

“In the first joyful moment of meeting you I thought not of them, but will now attend to the duties of hospitality,” And introducing Ivan, the Hadji added, “I bring with me, one who is our countryman, my adopted son, next to Alp in my love; regard him as such, for my sake.”

“To me he will always be welcome,” replied the chief, taking Ivan by the hand. “And I will believe that he is worthy to be a true son of the Attèghèi. But come, we will waste no further time here. He and his attendants shall accompany us, while some of my followers shall stay to bring up your goods from the vessel. We will at once repair to the dwelling of the noble Prince of Pchad, whither I was bound, when I saw your vessel approaching the land. He will welcome you with the arms of friendship. Away, my Deli Khans,” he cried, addressing several young men who surrounded him. “Give notice to the noble Prince of our coming, and say, moreover, that some strangers accompany us.”

The Chieftain, and his brother, the Hadji led the way from the sea shore, accompanied by Ivan, and followed by a numerous band of active young mountaineers, each completely armed, with a gun slung on his back, a sword by his side, and a dagger in his belt, to which several had added pistols. Their dress consisted of a coat, fitting close to the body, of dark cloth trimmed with silver, without a collar, and open at the neck, secured by loops in front, and having long hanging sleeves; the skirts reached completely round to the knees, wide trowsers of a darkish green colour, tightening at the calf, embroidered boots of dressed leather, and belts round their waists of the same. Their bonnets were of sheepskin or dark cloth. Altogether the costume was elegant and picturesque.

The party proceeded for a short distance through a thick grove, on a gentle slope, which soon terminated in rough cliffs rising abruptly from the lower ground, under the shelter of wide-spreading beech trees of vast height, and of venerable oaks, extending their leafy boughs, almost to the water’s edge. They soon arrived at the entrance of a beautiful valley, which extended in a winding course far inland. After passing some way through it, they were entirely shut in by rocky cliffs, or steep, almost precipitous hills, yet clothed with the graceful linden, the dark leaved mulberry, the magnificent chestnut, the dark and silvery olive, and many other trees; and as they wound their way up the steep sides of the hills, they passed beneath natural arbours of the high creeping vine, and the graceful hop, which twined their slender tendrils from tree to tree, and from peak to peak.

The distant scenery was still hidden by the leafy shelter, when a successive discharge of fire arms was heard, and as they emerged from the thickets into an open space on the summit of the hill, a party of young cavaliers was seen galloping towards them at desperate speed, flourishing their swords, and firing off their pistols, and uttering shouts of congratulation and welcome; to which the old chief’s party answered when the others rushing forward, joined their ranks.

A beautiful village of low cottages scattered among the trees now appeared. Apart from the rest, and having greater pretentions to architectural grandeur, stood a dwelling, surrounded with several other buildings appertaining to it. From the principal gate-way in the fence, which enclosed it, was seen advancing towards the party, a personage, whose appearance struck Ivan with admiration. His long, flowing, and blanched beard, the deep lines which furrowed his expressive countenance, and his attenuated figure, bespoke him a man far advanced in the vale of years, though his eye still glowed with some of the fire of youth. He walked erect and firm, clothed in complete armour, with helmet on head, cuirass and cuisses of polished steel plates richly embossed, as with a noble and dignified air, he advanced to meet his guests, and to welcome them to his home.

He courteously pressed their hands. “Welcome, my noble friend,” he said, addressing the chief, “and you, oh venerable Hadji, who by the blessing of Allah, have returned from your travels, to bring wisdom and knowledge to our country. Welcome also to these strangers, who, under thy protection, I will receive as my sons and friends. My house, and all whom Mahmood commands, are at your orders—”

“Most noble Prince,” replied the Hadji, as spokesman of the party, “not the least of my happiness in returning again to my loved country, is to see you still alive, and ruling your people with wisdom and justice. Gladly will we partake of your well-known hospitality.”

Saying which, the Hadji led the way to the guest-house, to which the Prince pointed, following himself in the rear of the party, who entering, took their seats on broad cushions or ottomans, which surrounded the room; their arms being hung up on the walls by attendants in waiting. The aged host would not take a seat, till the Hadji and his brother had earnestly pressed him to do so.

“Rest here awhile,” he said, “till my women can prepare food to refresh you after your voyage. Do not imagine, that though daily threatened by a descent of our deadly enemy, I cannot, as in other days, prepare a banquet for a thousand or more of our gallant warriors, if they should honour me by a visit.”

The conversation now became general. The Hadji had many inquiries to make, and much to relate; and as the time wore on, several nobles of lesser rank, and importance in the neighbourhood, and subject to the Prince of Pchad, entered, and took their seats on the Divan. Ivan was silent, listening with interest to the conversation, while his two attendants stood respectfully among the others at the further end of the room.

The subject of discourse then turned entirely on the state of the country; the Uzden Achmet Beg, the Hadji’s brother, giving him an account of the different military operations which had occurred since the commencement of the campaign.

“Bismillah!” exclaimed the old chief. “We have well beaten the cursed Urus, whenever we could catch them beyond the shelter of their fortresses, where we coop them up like so many sheep in their pens. They talk of occupying our country; why, they have in all but three or four forts in it, which they can only hold by means of their fleet; and which we could capture any day we liked. Except Anapa, which we care no more for, than a dog chained to his kennel, who barks without reaching us to bite, they have only Ghelendjik, and another small fort near the sea, and Aboon at the head of the Kouban, where we close them in, and have nearly starved them to death. But as they can do no harm there, we do not choose to risk losing many valuable lives to take it. They once attempted to establish one of their colonies and forts at Soudjouk Kalie; but that time we were prepared for them. We rushed down upon them like a troop of wolves into a sheep fold, ere they could throw up their fortifications, and carried away one half of their people to till our own fields; while the rest we drove into the sea, where their ships picked them up. They found it was no use attempting to sow corn where they would never be allowed to reap, so they sailed away; and with the blessings of Allah, we will soon make them do the like from all parts of the country.”

“Allah be praised, we will soon accomplish that work,” exclaimed the Hadji. “My heart yearns to be among them again, with my true sword in my hand, in the loving way I used to treat them. Bismillah! we must make a foray among them, just to take the rust off our weapons. What say you, my son?” turning to Ivan, “will you try the strength of your arm on the hard heads of the Urus, and strike your first blow for the liberty of your country?”

“Gladly will I accompany you, my noble friend,” said Ivan. “I should not wish to serve under a better leader, for you well know how ardently I long to prove myself worthy of the race from which I have sprung.”

“Then, by the favour of Allah,” replied the Hadji, “before long, I will lead the way among their ranks, and we will then see what stuff they are made of, by cutting them to pieces. They are slaves and curs. Their mothers and fathers are dogs.”

The conversation was interrupted by the entrance of several male and female slaves bearing a repast. The dishes were placed on small wooden tables, about a foot high, before each person, as they sat round the room on the ottoman. The host himself handed to every guest a cup of light mead, a ceremony preliminary to the repast. He would not be seated until he had performed this courtesy; nor would he join the meal, notwithstanding his advanced age, till repeatedly urged by the party to do so. The servants stood round to attend to the wants of each guest:

The repast consisted of mutton, dressed in a variety of ways; fat poultry, pastry, preserves, and fruit, commencing with a bowl of rich and savoury soup, with spoons placed for every person to help themselves; after which, each man drew a small knife from his girdle, to commence the attack.

Before the attendants had cleared away the tables, the aged Prince arose, and filling his cup with mead, drank to the health of all present in turns.

“By what name shall I address my young stranger guest?” he asked, turning to Ivan. “Though he speaks with the tongue of our people, and his eagle glance, and lofty stature, betoken him to be a noble, yet know I not his name. Say, under what appellation shall he dwell in the memory of Mahmood Indar?”

“Noble Prince,” replied Ivan, rising from his seat, “you speak truly, though I am, I trust, of the pure race of the Attèghèi. Name have I none. I love not the one I have borne for many years, therefore, I give it not, and the noble name I long to bear, I give not, until I have done some deeds, to shew myself worthy of the race from which I deem myself sprung; that my kindred should not say, when I claim their love, that I am no true scion of their stock. This I have sworn by the bright heaven above us. My noble friend, the Hadji Guz Beg, has offered to shew the way among the ranks of our foes, and I have sworn to follow him, even to the cannon’s mouth.”

All applauded this speech, the Hadji springing forward to embrace him. “I see, my second son, that you will prove a true Circassian,” he cried, “and by the blessing of Allah, by to-morrow’s dawn, we will proceed in search of our foes: to-night, we will rest under the roof of our noble host.”

“Happy am I to receive so gallant a warrior as you have proved yourself, oh! Hadji; and honoured am I in such guests as you and your friends,” answered the Prince.

The repast being concluded, the party strolled out among rich and fertile meadows, sloping from the house down to a pure and glassy rivulet. An orchard of various fruit trees surrounded the dwelling, while, before it, grew some magnificent chestnut trees, under whose grateful shade the old noble loved to sit, surrounded by his youthful descendants, enjoying their gambols on the grass.

In the neighbourhood of the house were the farm yards and granaries, stored with all kinds of corn, the produce of the surrounding highly-cultivated fields. On the mountain’s brow grazed his numerous flocks, and in the rich meadows below his herds of fat cattle.

Our hero had parted from his companions, when the page sought his side; and as Ivan’s eye fell on the boy, he exclaimed—

“Conrin, do you find yourself sad and solitary among so many strange people?”

“Ah, no!” answered the page, “I cannot be sad or solitary when in your presence.”

“Do you then come to congratulate me on having, at length, arrived in the land of my hopes?” asked Ivan.

“Yes, Sir, yes; whatever gives you pleasure makes my heart beat with joy; and may your utmost hopes be now fulfilled!”

“Thanks, page; but still my heart is full of fears. I know not, nor dare I ask, if yet my father lives. Why do you sigh, boy? Does the name of father cause you thus to sigh?”

“Alas, Sir, I never knew one: the name sounds like mockery on my ear. The kind and noble friend, whom I thought my father, I found was not so; and yet I feared to ask who was.”

“’Tis strange,” said Ivan. “And your mother, boy?”

“Alas, Sir!” said the page, “the kind and gentle care of her, who was my mother, I never knew.”

The boy’s eyes filled with tears.

“I would I had not asked you, boy, about your parents, to make you weep thus: but dry your tears; I will supply the place of both your parents, as much as in my power lies; and you shall share my fortunes, which, I trust, will lead to happiness.”

In a moment the boy’s eyes brightened, as he gazed up into Ivan’s face, with an inquiring and searching glance, yet radiating with smiles of joy.

“’Tis that alone I ask to do,” he replied. “To follow your fortunes through good or evil, in happiness or misery. Still speak to me in words like those you just now uttered, and they will repay me all the hardships I may endure.”

“I could not speak harsh words to one so unprotected as you are. Now tell me, what think you of my countrymen? Are they like the wild barbarians the Russians would have taught the world to think them? But, thank heaven! they yet may learn how true courage can oppose its arms to tyranny, though backed by hosts of slaves.”

“I did not think to find them as they are,” replied the boy; “more courteous far, and hospitable, than the people of the land whence we came. True valour sits in the eye, even of the lowest of the multitude.”

“You praise them well, good page, but justly,” replied Ivan. “But see, the party move towards the house. We must go in. Keep by my side, as you see the pages of the nobles do.”

Volume Two—Chapter Six.As the sun of the first day, which Ivan had passed in his native land, sunk down beneath the waters of the ocean, shining bright and blue between an opening in the hills, the guests re-assembled in the hospitable mansion of the Prince Mahmood, where another repast was served, much in the style of the former; and as the party were seated at it, a new comer entered the guest-house. He was dressed in the high fur cap of Armenia, with a long-flowing, dark robe, bound by a belt round his waist, at which he carried an ink-horn, pen, and book.A slave followed him, staggering under the weight of large packages, which he had unloaded from two horses at the door.He took his seat respectfully, at some distance from the chiefs, and humbly ate the viands which the Prince ordered to be placed before him.“Whence come you?” demanded the host of the stranger, who seemed to be a pedlar or travelling merchant. “What goods do you bring for sale? Allah knows we have little need of any, except powder and lead in these times.”“I come from the City of the Sultan,” replied the Armenian, “from the rich Stamboul; and I bring jewels and silks for your lovely wives and daughters, and gemmed daggers and swords for you, noble chiefs. But I am a man of peace, and thought not of the powder and lead.”“You will find but a bad market for such wares here,” answered the Prince; “but in my house you are welcome. What news bring you from Stamboul? Do you hear what measures the great Padishah is taking in our cause? Or, forgetting the children of his holy creed, does he tamely submit to the audacious tyranny of the proud Moscov?”“Alas! my father,” replied the merchant, “though all men desire to aid your cause, and many would eagerly hasten to your assistance, yet the power of Russia is great, and no movement can be made without coming to the ears of her minister in the capital of the Sultan, where a whole host of spies are ever on the watch to carry information to him. The Sultan—may Allah prosper him!—would of his own free will do much for you; but where is now his power, since the standard of the Osmanlis has sunk before the eagles of the Moscov? Alas! fallen is the greatness of the Turks, my father. Their old allies, the Inglis, have forsaken them, and joined the armies of their foes. What help have you, but to yield to the mighty power opposed to you?”“What help have we!” vehemently exclaimed the Hadji. “You are a man of peace, and the guest of our host, or you should eat those words of dirt you speak. What help! We have the help of Allah in our rightful cause, and our own good swords to defend our homes; and with the will of heaven, we will show those cursed Urus that we know how to use our arms. Let them venture from their strongholds, and we will teach them a lesson they will not easily forget. Go to their camps, merchant. Tell them to come on; we fear them not. But, man, you speak false. Bosh! it is nonsense. I, too, have come from Stamboul; and the Inglis are again the friends of the Sultan; and I know well they would aid our cause if the Urus did not cram their ears with lies. There are many noble spirits among them, ready to fly to our assistance. Go to, man, you speak of things long passed. You know not what you say.”The Armenian pedlar looked confused for a moment, but his assurance soon returned.“If the noble Hadji has just arrived from Stamboul, I have no more to say. I have journeyed far by land since I left that city, so he, perchance, brings fresher news than I do.”“The Hadji is right,” said the Prince. “For I too know that the Inglis are our friends, and if they would but send us powder and lead, we would be grateful, and be their friends for ever.”“The Inglis, say you, Prince?” answered the Armenian; “you are deceived in the Inglis. They are a nation of merchants like me, and aid not a cause where they cannot make gain; some few are gallant warriors, and would shed their blood perhaps in your cause; but of what assistance would a few more swords be among a nation of warriors? No, Prince, I say, expect no help from them. Seek not to war against so powerful a nation as the Moscovite. I say not, be friends, but it is madness contending with them.”“Mashallah!” exclaimed the Hadji, furiously regarding the stranger, “I warned you, trader, not to speak of peace with our foes, and you have again done so. Beware how you utter those words again. The Inglis are a brave nation, and I know that they are good warriors, for I have met many of them; and all who come to this country shall be welcome. But what want we more than our own arms to defend our own mountains? Speak not again of peace. Bosh! such words I spit upon;—they are vile.”“I see, noble Hadji, your slave is wrong,” cringingly returned the pedlar. “I thought of some other Franks; mine too is not a nation of warriors like your’s, to hold out so long against an invader, and to endure, for so many years, all the miseries of war. I spoke but my own feelings, therefore let not your anger be kindled against a poor merchant, who would do nothing to offend you.”The Hadji’s anger was as quickly appeased as it was easily excited, and he regarded the Armenian more with feelings of the deepest contempt than with any hostile thoughts. The pedlar himself appeared to have discovered that the most discreet conduct he could follow, was to keep silence among the present company.Appealing to the Prince, he craved leave to exhibit his goods to the ladies of the family.“I have but little to give for aught you may possess, merchant; yet as the women love to look on fine silks and jewels, you may send in your packages to the anderoon, and see if they will select any. Go now, it is late, they will soon retire to rest.”As the Armenian left the apartment, the Hadji glanced at him with a look of disgust. “For what should that slave talk to us of treating with the Urus?” he cried; “one might think from his words that he was a friend of theirs; but he is a craven-hearted slave, and not worth further thought.”The principal part of the company now adjourned to the verandah in front of the house, where they passed an hour in smoking the much prized tchibouks.Before they retired to rest, the pedlar returned, having disposed of some of his silks to the ladies of the family.“Your slave,” he said, humbly addressing the Hadji, “hears that you and some other noble chiefs are travelling towards the north to-morrow, and it would be a high honour as well as a great kindness, if you would allow him to accompany you.”“Do you fear, merchant, that your friends the Moscov would ease you of your goods, if you happen to go near their forts?” The pedlar started. “But what care I? you may go with us if your pack horses can keep pace with our steeds; but remember that we delay not for a few bales of silk.”“Thanks, noble chiefs,” replied the pedlar, bowing before them; “much shall I prize your protection. But do not say that the Russians are my friends; I know them not, I hate them, I detest them, I spit upon them.”“You do well, man,” replied the Hadji. “But remember another time, that if you talk of peace between the sons of the Attèghèi and the Moscov, while they remain on our coasts, you may chance to take a leap from a higher rock than you would like.”“Your servant hears, and will follow your advice,” replied the Armenian; then turning to the Prince, he presented to him a richly jewelled dagger. “Perchance, as the noble Prince Mahmood will not purchase, he will accept as a gift this dagger from his servant, to prove his love for the Attèghèi, and his hatred for the Moscov. He will honour his slave much by receiving it from his hands.”The Prince looked musingly at the dagger, which seemed of great value.“Take back your gift, merchant,” he said; “what Mahmood requires he can purchase, and beware how you make such gifts. They are too much like the bribes the Urus offer to tempt traitorous hearts to join them. Mahmood thanks you, but cannot accept your gift.”“Your slave would be more gratified if the Prince would take the trifling gift. He can repay it when he pleases.”“I thank you, merchant, but I have said I will not accept your gift,” replied the Prince. “Therefore take it back, and go in peace.”The Armenian, as desired, took the dagger, concealing it beneath the folds of his dress, while the Prince whispered a few words into Achmet Beg’s ear.The night being already far advanced, the party prepared for rest. Slaves entered the guest-house, bringing cushions and coverlids of rich silk, and spreading them on the floor, to form beds for the guests, on which the voyagers gladly threw themselves to rest.Seeing that every thing was arranged, their Princely host retired to a part of the dwelling appropriated to himself.The walls of the room were adorned by tablets with passages of the Koran written on them, while the arms of the guests, with several suits of rich armour, hung suspended around. The internal ornaments afforded a strong contrast to the primitive simplicity of the mansion, and to the simple habits and customs of its inhabitants. The manners of the chiefs, however, were courteous and knightly, resembling all we hear of the chivalry of the middle ages, or perhaps still more like the heroes of ancient Greece.The lower orders and serfs, also, are certainly less barbarous, and perhaps more intelligent than the Scottish highlanders of the same class a century ago, if it is necessary indeed to go back so far.The next morning, the Uzden Achmet Beg assembled his followers, who had been dispersed about the neighbouring hamlet for the night; and when it was rumoured that the celebrated Hadji Guz Beg had returned from his distant pilgrimage, and was about to take the field, with his hatred of the Urus unabated, numbers of young men volunteered to join his standard, leaving the old men and women to attend to their fields. Achmet Beg indeed, though the head of his tribe, and a much respected noble, had not gained that renown which his younger brother had acquired by a long series of hazardous and daring exploits. The latter, therefore, was always preferred as a leader by the young and bold spirits of their tribe, nor did the elder, who was of an unambitious, quiet character, feel the slightest jealousy at his brother’s superior military abilities.Ivan was overjoyed when he found with whom he had formed a friendship, little thinking while aboard ship, where he had scarcely spoken on the subject of war, that the sedate Hadji was the renowned warrior he on all sides was acknowledged to be; and though he seemed somewhat to boast among his friends of past deeds, and of others to be accomplished, it was easy to see that it was not the vaunting of a pretender, by the attention paid to his words.A gallant array of cavaliers now assembled before the house of Prince Mahmood; the chiefs in glittering suits of armour, some of highly polished plates of steel, and others of finely worked chain, their cloaks of varied colours, and swords girded to their sides, with richly embossed handles. The daggers in their belts were decorated in the same manner. Many carried pistols, and the greater number had also a long rifle slung at their backs, thus mingling the weapons of ancient and modern days.Their retainers were armed, some with long guns, and others with long bows, and quivers full of arrows, wearing in their belts short double-edged swords, or rather daggers, and straight sabres by their sides.As Ivan issued from the house, he found a high-mettled steed waiting at the door, held by Achmet Beg’s squire. The Hadji advanced as he appeared, and leading the horse forward, presented it to him, saying:“Let me be the first, my son, to provide you with a charger of the true Attèghèi breed, who well knows his way among the ranks of the Moscov; and in case you do not like the gift, you can repay me when we have made a foray into their country, and have carried off a rich booty. Till then, accept him from a father who loves you. There are two others, which count as nothing, for the use of your squire and page, though perhaps not to be matched among the Cossacks of the plain.”Ivan, gratefully thanking him for his well-timed present, vaulted with alacrity into the light saddle, Javis holding his stirrup, and then following his example. Young Conrin also shewed himself no mean horseman, leaping lightly on his small, but well proportioned and active steed.The whole party were prepared to set forth, when the aged prince himself appeared, tendering to each guest of noble rank a parting stirrup cup of mead; for such is the knightly custom, still adhered to in that primitive country.“May the blessings of Allah attend you, my sons!” said the aged chieftain; “may your arms be victorious over our enemies, and may death fly from your ranks. Would that I too had strength to lead my followers to the field; but while my gallant sons yet exist to take my place, I must remain to guard our lands from the foe. Should it be the will of Allah that they fall, then I too must gird on my sword, and yield my last breath amid the din of battle. Now Heaven protect you, my sons!”The venerable Prince, grasping the hand of each chief as in turn they rode by, the cavalcade set forward. As they issued from the court-yard of their konag, the cry of “Ogmaff! ogmaff! farewell! farewell!” resounded on all sides from the assembled retainers and slaves of the chief; and loud shouts of “Vo-ri-va-ka,” rent the air, as a parting salute to the warriors who were sallying forth to defend their country.They set forward at a brisk pace, Ivan keeping by the side of the Hadji, who pointed out to him each scene of note as they advanced, explaining to him the Circassian style of fighting, and other subjects of interest and importance.In the rear of their ranks, came the Armenian merchant and his pack horses, light active animals, formed of bone and sinew alone, who continued to keep up with the high-mettled steeds of the warriors, though the ground was rough and hilly. Their route lay across a country, wild as if no other foot had trodden it save the beasts of the forest; now over the edge of dizzy precipices, then descending into savage glens and through dark and frightful defiles, amid gigantic rocks, bared, broken, and distorted into a thousand strange forms.Then again they had to scale some lofty elevation, amid splendid forest trees, where a platform of rich ground would be found, highly-cultivated, and far removed from the reach of their enemies. Occasionally they saw, amid the almost inaccessible recesses of the mountains, some Alpine cot, whose skin-clad inhabitant was tending his flocks of goats.As they rode along, game of various sorts, such as wild turkeys, pheasants, hares, and deer, would start up in their path, to which some of the party gave chase, and either ran down or shot with their true-aimed arrows. As they were passing through a rocky defile, an immense wild boar started up in their path.“A fortunate omen for our next expedition,” shouted the Hadji. “Now, my Deli Khans, let us give chase to the huge monster as we would to the savage Urus.”Uttering these words, and with the spirit and agility of youth, spurring on his horse, followed by Ivan and the younger men of the party, he rode at the beast, who, gnashing his long tusks in defiance as he turned his head towards them, first endeavoured to escape among the rocks, when he saw the number of his foes. The Hadji was, however, too quick for him; and the boar, seeing escape from his active pursuers was hopeless, stood at bay. Grinning at them with his sharp teeth, and foaming with fury, he prepared to rush at the headmost of his opponents; but, nothing daunted, the aged, but active huntsman rode directly at him, and leaning from his saddle, plunged a short sword deep into the thick neck of the animal, who made a last desperate attempt to rip up the horse of his opponent; but the Hadji, making his steed spring on one side, the fierce beast rolled over, and expired without a struggle.Shouts of applause, from those of his friends who had come up to the scene of action, followed this dexterous feat of the old warrior.“Bosh! it is nothing,” he exclaimed. “I did it but to ascertain if my eye had lost its quickness, or my arm its nerve; but, praises be to Allah, neither of them is the worse for my long rest.”The carcase of the boar was left to feed the beasts of the mountain, less scrupulous than the followers of Mahomet; though in truth, few of the Circassian mountaineers are very strict observers of the tenets of his religion, nor would object, if hard pressed, to a slice of the unclean animal.“We will soon find more noble game than this,” said the Hadji, turning to Ivan, who had arrived as the boar received his death stroke; “and you will become both a good huntsman and a good warrior. But Inshallah! the first is only fit sport for boys or young men, when there are no enemies to be met with; and I did it but to stretch my sinews a little after my voyage.”The whole party now proceeded through a deep and romantic glen, where scarcely a breath stirred the light festoons of creeping plants which hung from the rocks above. All seemed solemn and sad; when Achmet Beg’s followers struck into a low chaunting song, describing the actions of some chief who had fallen lately, fighting against the Russians. The whole party joined in a rich and full chorus; the sounds of Ay-a-ri-ra swelling and dying away among the ravines and far distant glades of the mountain forest.Ascending a lofty eminence, crowned by trees, they emerged from their shelter, when a view was obtained of the sea below them, and of the fort of Ghelendjik, far to the north, built on one side of a deep bay. Stretching far beyond it was a long line of white cliffs. As the party of warriors gazed on it, expressions of execration burst from their lips, and the Hadji looked anxiously down a steep pathway leading to the shore, by which he might have gained the outside of the fort; but feeling the uselessness of the wish, he merely contented himself with muttering—“The piggish cowards! Let us but meet them beyond their walls and without their cannon, and we will soon teach them better manners than to pay us a visit without an invitation.”It struck the chiefs as singular, that they had met none of the sentinels, who watch every height along the coast in the neighbourhood of an enemy.“The men of Hyderbey were not wont to be sluggards at their posts!” exclaimed the Hadji to his brother. “How is it that they do not watch these heights?”“Perhaps they have gone nearer to our foes,” replied the chief, “to shoot any who may show their faces above the walls of their fort.”The scene below them seemed calm and quiet. A few white sails of Russian vessels, alone dotted the smooth bosom of the Euxine. In the fort all was so quiet, that it looked like a deserted mound of earth. The roofs of the buildings scarcely peered above the walls; and the proud standard of Russia was hardly distinguishable, as it hung listlessly round its staff.Not a breath stirred the air, and deep silence reigned on the calm scene, when, in a moment, it was broken by the loud crash of artillery, followed by the continued reports of musketry, far above which rose the loud war shriek of the Attèghèi.“Allah be praised, here is work for us, my friends, without delay!” exclaimed the gallant Hadji, in a joyous tone, “Bismillah! we will be upon them when they little expect us, and aid our friends, whoever they are. Follow me, brave warriors.”So saying, he spurred on his charger, with his brother and Ivan by his side, followed by the rest of the band, and galloped, by an almost precipitous path, down the wooded sides of the hill. They passed many a rocky ravine, and dry bed of winter torrents, tearing their way with eager haste through the boughs and thick underwood. Nothing could stop their course.

As the sun of the first day, which Ivan had passed in his native land, sunk down beneath the waters of the ocean, shining bright and blue between an opening in the hills, the guests re-assembled in the hospitable mansion of the Prince Mahmood, where another repast was served, much in the style of the former; and as the party were seated at it, a new comer entered the guest-house. He was dressed in the high fur cap of Armenia, with a long-flowing, dark robe, bound by a belt round his waist, at which he carried an ink-horn, pen, and book.

A slave followed him, staggering under the weight of large packages, which he had unloaded from two horses at the door.

He took his seat respectfully, at some distance from the chiefs, and humbly ate the viands which the Prince ordered to be placed before him.

“Whence come you?” demanded the host of the stranger, who seemed to be a pedlar or travelling merchant. “What goods do you bring for sale? Allah knows we have little need of any, except powder and lead in these times.”

“I come from the City of the Sultan,” replied the Armenian, “from the rich Stamboul; and I bring jewels and silks for your lovely wives and daughters, and gemmed daggers and swords for you, noble chiefs. But I am a man of peace, and thought not of the powder and lead.”

“You will find but a bad market for such wares here,” answered the Prince; “but in my house you are welcome. What news bring you from Stamboul? Do you hear what measures the great Padishah is taking in our cause? Or, forgetting the children of his holy creed, does he tamely submit to the audacious tyranny of the proud Moscov?”

“Alas! my father,” replied the merchant, “though all men desire to aid your cause, and many would eagerly hasten to your assistance, yet the power of Russia is great, and no movement can be made without coming to the ears of her minister in the capital of the Sultan, where a whole host of spies are ever on the watch to carry information to him. The Sultan—may Allah prosper him!—would of his own free will do much for you; but where is now his power, since the standard of the Osmanlis has sunk before the eagles of the Moscov? Alas! fallen is the greatness of the Turks, my father. Their old allies, the Inglis, have forsaken them, and joined the armies of their foes. What help have you, but to yield to the mighty power opposed to you?”

“What help have we!” vehemently exclaimed the Hadji. “You are a man of peace, and the guest of our host, or you should eat those words of dirt you speak. What help! We have the help of Allah in our rightful cause, and our own good swords to defend our homes; and with the will of heaven, we will show those cursed Urus that we know how to use our arms. Let them venture from their strongholds, and we will teach them a lesson they will not easily forget. Go to their camps, merchant. Tell them to come on; we fear them not. But, man, you speak false. Bosh! it is nonsense. I, too, have come from Stamboul; and the Inglis are again the friends of the Sultan; and I know well they would aid our cause if the Urus did not cram their ears with lies. There are many noble spirits among them, ready to fly to our assistance. Go to, man, you speak of things long passed. You know not what you say.”

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

“If the noble Hadji has just arrived from Stamboul, I have no more to say. I have journeyed far by land since I left that city, so he, perchance, brings fresher news than I do.”

“The Hadji is right,” said the Prince. “For I too know that the Inglis are our friends, and if they would but send us powder and lead, we would be grateful, and be their friends for ever.”

“The Inglis, say you, Prince?” answered the Armenian; “you are deceived in the Inglis. They are a nation of merchants like me, and aid not a cause where they cannot make gain; some few are gallant warriors, and would shed their blood perhaps in your cause; but of what assistance would a few more swords be among a nation of warriors? No, Prince, I say, expect no help from them. Seek not to war against so powerful a nation as the Moscovite. I say not, be friends, but it is madness contending with them.”

“Mashallah!” exclaimed the Hadji, furiously regarding the stranger, “I warned you, trader, not to speak of peace with our foes, and you have again done so. Beware how you utter those words again. The Inglis are a brave nation, and I know that they are good warriors, for I have met many of them; and all who come to this country shall be welcome. But what want we more than our own arms to defend our own mountains? Speak not again of peace. Bosh! such words I spit upon;—they are vile.”

“I see, noble Hadji, your slave is wrong,” cringingly returned the pedlar. “I thought of some other Franks; mine too is not a nation of warriors like your’s, to hold out so long against an invader, and to endure, for so many years, all the miseries of war. I spoke but my own feelings, therefore let not your anger be kindled against a poor merchant, who would do nothing to offend you.”

The Hadji’s anger was as quickly appeased as it was easily excited, and he regarded the Armenian more with feelings of the deepest contempt than with any hostile thoughts. The pedlar himself appeared to have discovered that the most discreet conduct he could follow, was to keep silence among the present company.

Appealing to the Prince, he craved leave to exhibit his goods to the ladies of the family.

“I have but little to give for aught you may possess, merchant; yet as the women love to look on fine silks and jewels, you may send in your packages to the anderoon, and see if they will select any. Go now, it is late, they will soon retire to rest.”

As the Armenian left the apartment, the Hadji glanced at him with a look of disgust. “For what should that slave talk to us of treating with the Urus?” he cried; “one might think from his words that he was a friend of theirs; but he is a craven-hearted slave, and not worth further thought.”

The principal part of the company now adjourned to the verandah in front of the house, where they passed an hour in smoking the much prized tchibouks.

Before they retired to rest, the pedlar returned, having disposed of some of his silks to the ladies of the family.

“Your slave,” he said, humbly addressing the Hadji, “hears that you and some other noble chiefs are travelling towards the north to-morrow, and it would be a high honour as well as a great kindness, if you would allow him to accompany you.”

“Do you fear, merchant, that your friends the Moscov would ease you of your goods, if you happen to go near their forts?” The pedlar started. “But what care I? you may go with us if your pack horses can keep pace with our steeds; but remember that we delay not for a few bales of silk.”

“Thanks, noble chiefs,” replied the pedlar, bowing before them; “much shall I prize your protection. But do not say that the Russians are my friends; I know them not, I hate them, I detest them, I spit upon them.”

“You do well, man,” replied the Hadji. “But remember another time, that if you talk of peace between the sons of the Attèghèi and the Moscov, while they remain on our coasts, you may chance to take a leap from a higher rock than you would like.”

“Your servant hears, and will follow your advice,” replied the Armenian; then turning to the Prince, he presented to him a richly jewelled dagger. “Perchance, as the noble Prince Mahmood will not purchase, he will accept as a gift this dagger from his servant, to prove his love for the Attèghèi, and his hatred for the Moscov. He will honour his slave much by receiving it from his hands.”

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

“Take back your gift, merchant,” he said; “what Mahmood requires he can purchase, and beware how you make such gifts. They are too much like the bribes the Urus offer to tempt traitorous hearts to join them. Mahmood thanks you, but cannot accept your gift.”

“Your slave would be more gratified if the Prince would take the trifling gift. He can repay it when he pleases.”

“I thank you, merchant, but I have said I will not accept your gift,” replied the Prince. “Therefore take it back, and go in peace.”

The Armenian, as desired, took the dagger, concealing it beneath the folds of his dress, while the Prince whispered a few words into Achmet Beg’s ear.

The night being already far advanced, the party prepared for rest. Slaves entered the guest-house, bringing cushions and coverlids of rich silk, and spreading them on the floor, to form beds for the guests, on which the voyagers gladly threw themselves to rest.

Seeing that every thing was arranged, their Princely host retired to a part of the dwelling appropriated to himself.

The walls of the room were adorned by tablets with passages of the Koran written on them, while the arms of the guests, with several suits of rich armour, hung suspended around. The internal ornaments afforded a strong contrast to the primitive simplicity of the mansion, and to the simple habits and customs of its inhabitants. The manners of the chiefs, however, were courteous and knightly, resembling all we hear of the chivalry of the middle ages, or perhaps still more like the heroes of ancient Greece.

The lower orders and serfs, also, are certainly less barbarous, and perhaps more intelligent than the Scottish highlanders of the same class a century ago, if it is necessary indeed to go back so far.

The next morning, the Uzden Achmet Beg assembled his followers, who had been dispersed about the neighbouring hamlet for the night; and when it was rumoured that the celebrated Hadji Guz Beg had returned from his distant pilgrimage, and was about to take the field, with his hatred of the Urus unabated, numbers of young men volunteered to join his standard, leaving the old men and women to attend to their fields. Achmet Beg indeed, though the head of his tribe, and a much respected noble, had not gained that renown which his younger brother had acquired by a long series of hazardous and daring exploits. The latter, therefore, was always preferred as a leader by the young and bold spirits of their tribe, nor did the elder, who was of an unambitious, quiet character, feel the slightest jealousy at his brother’s superior military abilities.

Ivan was overjoyed when he found with whom he had formed a friendship, little thinking while aboard ship, where he had scarcely spoken on the subject of war, that the sedate Hadji was the renowned warrior he on all sides was acknowledged to be; and though he seemed somewhat to boast among his friends of past deeds, and of others to be accomplished, it was easy to see that it was not the vaunting of a pretender, by the attention paid to his words.

A gallant array of cavaliers now assembled before the house of Prince Mahmood; the chiefs in glittering suits of armour, some of highly polished plates of steel, and others of finely worked chain, their cloaks of varied colours, and swords girded to their sides, with richly embossed handles. The daggers in their belts were decorated in the same manner. Many carried pistols, and the greater number had also a long rifle slung at their backs, thus mingling the weapons of ancient and modern days.

Their retainers were armed, some with long guns, and others with long bows, and quivers full of arrows, wearing in their belts short double-edged swords, or rather daggers, and straight sabres by their sides.

As Ivan issued from the house, he found a high-mettled steed waiting at the door, held by Achmet Beg’s squire. The Hadji advanced as he appeared, and leading the horse forward, presented it to him, saying:

“Let me be the first, my son, to provide you with a charger of the true Attèghèi breed, who well knows his way among the ranks of the Moscov; and in case you do not like the gift, you can repay me when we have made a foray into their country, and have carried off a rich booty. Till then, accept him from a father who loves you. There are two others, which count as nothing, for the use of your squire and page, though perhaps not to be matched among the Cossacks of the plain.”

Ivan, gratefully thanking him for his well-timed present, vaulted with alacrity into the light saddle, Javis holding his stirrup, and then following his example. Young Conrin also shewed himself no mean horseman, leaping lightly on his small, but well proportioned and active steed.

The whole party were prepared to set forth, when the aged prince himself appeared, tendering to each guest of noble rank a parting stirrup cup of mead; for such is the knightly custom, still adhered to in that primitive country.

“May the blessings of Allah attend you, my sons!” said the aged chieftain; “may your arms be victorious over our enemies, and may death fly from your ranks. Would that I too had strength to lead my followers to the field; but while my gallant sons yet exist to take my place, I must remain to guard our lands from the foe. Should it be the will of Allah that they fall, then I too must gird on my sword, and yield my last breath amid the din of battle. Now Heaven protect you, my sons!”

The venerable Prince, grasping the hand of each chief as in turn they rode by, the cavalcade set forward. As they issued from the court-yard of their konag, the cry of “Ogmaff! ogmaff! farewell! farewell!” resounded on all sides from the assembled retainers and slaves of the chief; and loud shouts of “Vo-ri-va-ka,” rent the air, as a parting salute to the warriors who were sallying forth to defend their country.

They set forward at a brisk pace, Ivan keeping by the side of the Hadji, who pointed out to him each scene of note as they advanced, explaining to him the Circassian style of fighting, and other subjects of interest and importance.

In the rear of their ranks, came the Armenian merchant and his pack horses, light active animals, formed of bone and sinew alone, who continued to keep up with the high-mettled steeds of the warriors, though the ground was rough and hilly. Their route lay across a country, wild as if no other foot had trodden it save the beasts of the forest; now over the edge of dizzy precipices, then descending into savage glens and through dark and frightful defiles, amid gigantic rocks, bared, broken, and distorted into a thousand strange forms.

Then again they had to scale some lofty elevation, amid splendid forest trees, where a platform of rich ground would be found, highly-cultivated, and far removed from the reach of their enemies. Occasionally they saw, amid the almost inaccessible recesses of the mountains, some Alpine cot, whose skin-clad inhabitant was tending his flocks of goats.

As they rode along, game of various sorts, such as wild turkeys, pheasants, hares, and deer, would start up in their path, to which some of the party gave chase, and either ran down or shot with their true-aimed arrows. As they were passing through a rocky defile, an immense wild boar started up in their path.

“A fortunate omen for our next expedition,” shouted the Hadji. “Now, my Deli Khans, let us give chase to the huge monster as we would to the savage Urus.”

Uttering these words, and with the spirit and agility of youth, spurring on his horse, followed by Ivan and the younger men of the party, he rode at the beast, who, gnashing his long tusks in defiance as he turned his head towards them, first endeavoured to escape among the rocks, when he saw the number of his foes. The Hadji was, however, too quick for him; and the boar, seeing escape from his active pursuers was hopeless, stood at bay. Grinning at them with his sharp teeth, and foaming with fury, he prepared to rush at the headmost of his opponents; but, nothing daunted, the aged, but active huntsman rode directly at him, and leaning from his saddle, plunged a short sword deep into the thick neck of the animal, who made a last desperate attempt to rip up the horse of his opponent; but the Hadji, making his steed spring on one side, the fierce beast rolled over, and expired without a struggle.

Shouts of applause, from those of his friends who had come up to the scene of action, followed this dexterous feat of the old warrior.

“Bosh! it is nothing,” he exclaimed. “I did it but to ascertain if my eye had lost its quickness, or my arm its nerve; but, praises be to Allah, neither of them is the worse for my long rest.”

The carcase of the boar was left to feed the beasts of the mountain, less scrupulous than the followers of Mahomet; though in truth, few of the Circassian mountaineers are very strict observers of the tenets of his religion, nor would object, if hard pressed, to a slice of the unclean animal.

“We will soon find more noble game than this,” said the Hadji, turning to Ivan, who had arrived as the boar received his death stroke; “and you will become both a good huntsman and a good warrior. But Inshallah! the first is only fit sport for boys or young men, when there are no enemies to be met with; and I did it but to stretch my sinews a little after my voyage.”

The whole party now proceeded through a deep and romantic glen, where scarcely a breath stirred the light festoons of creeping plants which hung from the rocks above. All seemed solemn and sad; when Achmet Beg’s followers struck into a low chaunting song, describing the actions of some chief who had fallen lately, fighting against the Russians. The whole party joined in a rich and full chorus; the sounds of Ay-a-ri-ra swelling and dying away among the ravines and far distant glades of the mountain forest.

Ascending a lofty eminence, crowned by trees, they emerged from their shelter, when a view was obtained of the sea below them, and of the fort of Ghelendjik, far to the north, built on one side of a deep bay. Stretching far beyond it was a long line of white cliffs. As the party of warriors gazed on it, expressions of execration burst from their lips, and the Hadji looked anxiously down a steep pathway leading to the shore, by which he might have gained the outside of the fort; but feeling the uselessness of the wish, he merely contented himself with muttering—

“The piggish cowards! Let us but meet them beyond their walls and without their cannon, and we will soon teach them better manners than to pay us a visit without an invitation.”

It struck the chiefs as singular, that they had met none of the sentinels, who watch every height along the coast in the neighbourhood of an enemy.

“The men of Hyderbey were not wont to be sluggards at their posts!” exclaimed the Hadji to his brother. “How is it that they do not watch these heights?”

“Perhaps they have gone nearer to our foes,” replied the chief, “to shoot any who may show their faces above the walls of their fort.”

The scene below them seemed calm and quiet. A few white sails of Russian vessels, alone dotted the smooth bosom of the Euxine. In the fort all was so quiet, that it looked like a deserted mound of earth. The roofs of the buildings scarcely peered above the walls; and the proud standard of Russia was hardly distinguishable, as it hung listlessly round its staff.

Not a breath stirred the air, and deep silence reigned on the calm scene, when, in a moment, it was broken by the loud crash of artillery, followed by the continued reports of musketry, far above which rose the loud war shriek of the Attèghèi.

“Allah be praised, here is work for us, my friends, without delay!” exclaimed the gallant Hadji, in a joyous tone, “Bismillah! we will be upon them when they little expect us, and aid our friends, whoever they are. Follow me, brave warriors.”

So saying, he spurred on his charger, with his brother and Ivan by his side, followed by the rest of the band, and galloped, by an almost precipitous path, down the wooded sides of the hill. They passed many a rocky ravine, and dry bed of winter torrents, tearing their way with eager haste through the boughs and thick underwood. Nothing could stop their course.

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