The Mountains of Caucasus have for a long time been included within the limits of the Russian Empire, without forming a part of its jurisdiction. Their uncivilized inhabitants, divided by interest and unconnected by language, form a cluster of small tribes, who have little political connection, but are equally animated by a love of independence and a spirit of rapine.

One of the most numerous and formidable of these tribes is that of the Tchetchengs,17 who inhabit the great and little Kabarda; two provinces, the high valleys of which extend to the summits of Caucasus. They are a handsome, spirited, intelligent people, but rapacious and cruel, and in a state of continual hostility with the “troops of the Line.” Under this latter name are comprehended several military posts, occupied by the Russian troops, between the Caspian and Black Seas, from the mouth of the Terek to the entrance of the Kuban.

It is in the midst of these dangerous hordes, and in the centre of this immense range of mountains, that the Russian Government has opened a road of communication with its Asiatic possessions. Redoubts built at intervals, secure the road into Georgia; but no traveller would be daring enough to traverse alone the intermediate space; twice every week a convoy of infantry, with a few field-pieces and a strong detachment of Cossacks, affords an escort to travellers and to the messengers of government. One of these fortifications, erected at the entrance of the mountains, has insensibly assumed the appearance of a well peopled village; and, from its commanding situation, it is called Vladi-Caucasus (Vladeti signifying in the Russian language, to command, domineer); and it is the residence of the officer who commands the troops engaged in the fatiguing service, which has been briefly described.

Major Kascambo, of the Wologda regiment, a Russian nobleman, but by descent a Greek, was on his way to take the command of the post of Lars, in the defiles of Caucasus. Impatient to reach his destination, and brave even to temerity, he was imprudent enough to enter on his journey with the feeble escort of fifty Cossacks, who were under his orders; and he had even the folly to boast of his daring enterprise, before he was sure he could accomplish it.

The Tchetchengs, near the frontiers, who have also the name of the “pacific,” acknowledge the power of Russia, and have therefore free passage to Mosdok.18 Most of them, notwithstanding, maintain relations with the Mountaineers, and are partners in their robberies. These latter, having been informed of Major Kascambo’s designs and movements, set out in large numbers to intercept him, and placed themselves in ambuscade. At twenty versts from Mosdok, at the turning of a small hill, covered with briers, he found himself in presence of seven hundred horsemen. There was no possibility of retreating. The troopers alighted and sustained the attack with great firmness, in the hope of being succoured by a body of soldiers stationed at the neighbouring fortification.

The Mountaineers of Caucasus, though individually very brave, are unaccustomed to act together in large bodies, and are, therefore, little dangerous to a force capable of making a stand; but they have good arms and are good marksmen. Yet their superiority of number made the struggle too unequal. After a brisk fire, kept up for some time, more than half of the detachment of Cossacks was killed or disabled, and the rest were ranged behind their dead horses, and had nearly expended their last cartridges. The Tchetchengs, who, as they commonly do, had carried with them some Russian deserters, whom they use, on such occasions, as interpreters, summoned the troops to deliver up the Major, or they would all be cut to pieces. Kascambo, seeing no other way of saving his remaining followers, determined to give himself up for them, and having left his sword to his Cossacks, he advanced alone towards the enemy, who immediately ceased to fire. They only wished to have him alive, for the ransom they expected would be paid for his liberty. He had scarcely surrendered himself into their hands, when he discerned, at a distance, the succours he had expected; but they arrived too late, and the robbers, using great despatch, were soon out of the reach of their enemies.

The Major’s Denchick, or military servant, had remained behind with the mule that carried his luggage. Concealed in a hollow place, near the roadside, he was awaiting the issue of the conflict, when the Cossacks met him, and informed him of his master’s captivity. The honest servant immediately determined to share his fate, and rode in the direction which the Tchetchengs had taken, guided by the track of their horses: when, through the obscurity of the night, he had lost the advantage of this direction, he met with a straggler of the hostile troop, who offered to conduct him to the rendezvous of the Tchetchengs.

We leave it to our readers to imagine, with what feelings the prisoner greeted his servant, who thus volunteered to share his misfortune. The robbers divided among themselves the booty, except a guitar, which they returned to the Major with derision. Honest Ivan19 seized the instrument, and refused to obey his master, who ordered him to throw it away. “Why lose courage,” exclaimed he: “the God of the Russians is great!20 The robbers are interested in the preservation of your life, and will do you no harm.”

After a halt of some hours, the horde prepared itself for continuing its march, when one of its stragglers arrived, bringing the news that the Russians were advancing, and that probably the troops of several redoubts would unite in its pursuit. The chiefs of the clan deliberated upon what they should do, not only to conceal the place of their retreat and to secure their prisoners, but to keep the enemy from disturbing their villages and avoid retaliation: with these several views, the horde dispersed itself on several roads. Ten men were destined to conduct the two prisoners, and a hundred troopers set out together, in an opposite direction. They obliged the Major to take off his boots, lest their iron heels should lead to the discovery of their retreats, and Kascambo, as well as his servant, was obliged to march barefoot, during a part of the night.

Arrived near a rapid stream, the little escort marched about half a verst up on the bank, and descended at a place where the shore was steepest, through a thorny ravine, and with the greatest care avoided leaving any trace of their march. The Major was so exhausted, that it was necessary to hold him with straps at the steep descent. His feet being much lacerated, the robbers returned him his boots, to enable him to make the rest of the journey. Lest he should die, and they should thus lose all the benefit of their enterprise, they determined, on their arrival at the first village, to treat him with humanity. They allowed him a little rest, and put him on a horse when they broke up from the halt. From time to time, they permitted him again to gather strength, and gave him enough to eat. They traversed thus several villages and valleys, the situation of which they hoped to conceal from their prisoners, by frequently bandaging their eyes. A large river which they passed, the Major thought must be the Sonja.

When they, at last, reached the village where they intended to secure their prisoners, the Tchetchengs changed suddenly their behaviour towards the Major. They put chains and gyves upon his hands and feet, and a chain round his neck, at the end of which was fixed a thick piece of oak. They treated Ivan less roughly; the fetters with which they fastened him were not so heavy, and they permitted him to assist his master.

While in this situation, and at each instance of cruel treatment, a person who spoke the Russian language, visited the Major, and advised him to write to his friends, in order to dispose them to purchase his liberty. The ransom was fixed at ten thousand roubles. The prisoner had no means of paying so large a sum, and all his hopes rested on the Government, who had some years previous paid a large price for a colonel, who had, like him, fallen into the power of the robbers. The interpreter offered to furnish him with paper, and promised to forward his letters; but after the Major had consented, many days passed without his returning to see him; and, during this interval, the prisoner was doomed to endure even worse treatment than before. They almost starved him; they took from him the mat on which he had slept, and the saddle cushions which served him as a pillow. When the officious adviser made his reappearance, he prefaced his speech, by disclosing the important secret, that if the fixed ransom was not soon paid, the Tchetchengs would put him to death, to avoid the expense and trouble of keeping him a prisoner. At the same time, he presented to him a pen made of reed, after the Tartar manner, and Kascambo’s chains were loosened to enable him to write. When he had finished his letter, the interpreter translated it to the chiefs, who promised to forward it to the commanding officer of the Line. The increased severity with which he was treated, during the preceding days, arose from an intention of urging the prisoner to solicit his Government, in more pressing terms, for his rescue.

When he had thus complied with the wishes of his captors, his bonds were reduced to a single chain that secured his feet and hands.

His host, or rather his gaoler, was a man of about sixty years of age, of gigantic stature and a ferocious countenance, which his character was far from belying. He had lost two of his sons in an encounter with the Russians, and this was partly the reason, why the prisoners were put under his guard.

The family of this man, whose name was Ibrahim, consisted of the widow of one of his sons, thirty-five years old, and of a child between seven and eight years, called Mamet. The woman was as hard-hearted as himself, and besides extremely peevish. Kascambo suffered much from her; but the sportive familiarity and caresses of her little boy beguiled many of his sorrowful hours, and really alleviated the weight of his misfortune. Mamet had become so attached to him, that his grandfather could neither by threats nor lashes, keep him from running to the Major, whenever he found an opportunity. The boy called him his Koniac, which, in the idiom of the country, signifies “friend or guest.” He often brought him fruits, and during the time that the Major was kept upon a low diet, his little friend watched the opportunity of his parent’s absence, to bring him bread and potatoes roasted in ashes.

Several months had elapsed since the letter had been forwarded, and nothing remarkable occurred. Ivan had, in this time, grown into great favour with the old man and the woman, or at least had rendered himself necessary to them. He was as skilful a cook as any soldier, who has the honour of supplying the mess of an officer commanding a detachment. Nobody excelled him in the preparation of the kislit chi, (a liquor made of flour) or of salt cucumbers; and he knew how to make palatable to his host sundry other refinements of the culinary art, as it is practised in the camps and at bivouacs.

To give more zest to these delicacies, he played the buffoon, and devised every day some new jest or trick or gambol to amuse his host. Old Ibrahim never had enough of the Cossack dance, and when any villager visited him, he loosened Ivan, to enable him to repeat his jigs and pranks, and the cunning soldier never failed to add some skips and grotesque gambols. Conversant with the Tartar language, he acquired so much the more easily the dialect of the Tchetchengs. By these means, he became so far a favourite amongst them, that he was, by unanimous consent, permitted to walk through the village, and had always at his heels a troop of little urchins, who followed the jester with shouts of applause and merriment.

The Major was often obliged to accompany on his guitar, the songs of his Denchick. When first his wild companions began to take pleasure in hearing him, they took off his handcuffs; but the termagant woman having remarked that he played sometimes for his own amusement, even when shackled, the favour which had been extended to him was again withheld; and the unfortunate prisoner repented more than once, having ever shown his musical skill. He did not foresee that his guitar would, one day, be the means of procuring him his liberty.

The prisoners devised many schemes for their escape, none of which, upon further reflection, appeared practicable. Since their arrival at the village, they had had every night, besides their gaolers, a watch from among the inhabitants, who performed that office by turns. Insensibly this additional precaution was less regularly observed; but when the appointed night-guard failed to come, Ibrahim laid himself close by the prisoners, while the woman and her boy slept in the next room; and keeping in his pocket the key of the locks attached to the shackels, he always awoke at the slightest noise.

The Major having received no reply to his solicitations, long after an answer might be expected, the Tchetchengs increased their severity towards the captives, and often added the most provoking insults and cruel menaces. Kascambo was put again upon short allowance, and was one day doomed to see poor little Mamet whipped, for having brought him a few medlars.

Strange as it may seem, it is however certain, that Kascambo had inspired these people with esteem and confidence; and while they heaped insults and injuries upon him, they consulted him on their concerns, and submitted their disputes to his arbitration. He was once thus called to settle a quarrel, the details of which will serve to throw some light on the character of these banditti.

A banknote of five roubles had been entrusted, by one of them, to an acquaintance who was departing for a neighbouring valley, with directions to deliver it to a third person. The traveller’s horse having died on the road, he pretended that he had a right to the five roubles, as an indemnity for his loss. Such an inference, though very conformable to the ideas of right and wrong among these robbers, was not very satisfactory to the party concerned, and there was a great stir, and a good deal of talk and argument about it, in the village. Both parties had friends and relations, ready to fight for their respective cause, and a bloody strife might have ensued, if the eldest of the horde, after having in vain endeavoured to procure a reconciliation, had not prevailed upon them to make the Major umpire of the quarrel. All the villagers having assembled, before Kascambo’s prison, he was placed upon the terrace of the house.

Most of the houses, in the valleys of Caucasus, are partly under ground, and rise only three or four feet above it. The horizontal roof consists of a layer of beaten potter’s earth. Men and women, but principally the latter, loiter on their terraces after sunset, and often sleep on them during the summer.

As soon as Kascambo appeared on the platform, all became silent. It was indeed a strange scene. Infuriated litigants, armed with daggers and pistols, acknowledged as an arbiter, a prisoner whom they kept in irons, and whom they had starved almost to death⁠—an arbiter from whose decisions there was, according to their usages, no appeal.

In this state of embittered feelings, the Major saw the necessity of strengthening his authority, by bringing all the villagers into better humour. He therefore sent for the defendant, and asked him the following question: “If, instead of giving thee five roubles, with a direction to deliver them to his creditor, thy friend had only told thee to make him his compliments, would thy horse have been saved?”

“Perhaps so,” replied the defendant.

“And what wouldst thou have done with the compliments?” asked again the judge: “wouldst thou not have been obliged to keep them as thy only indemnity? Well then; return the five roubles, and thy friend will present thee as many compliments as thou canst desire.”

The interpreter had scarcely finished the translation of that sentence, when the assembled multitude expressed, by peals of laughter, their approbation of the wisdom of the new Solomon. The condemned party endeavoured to speak, but was obliged to acquiesce in the Major’s decision, and the only revenge he took, was to say in a grumbling tone, while he delivered up the banknote, “I was sure of losing my cause, if that Christian dog was called to decide upon it.”

Kascambo had written three letters, without receiving a reply, and had now been detained for a year. Deprived of every comfort, and almost reduced to nakedness, his health became impaired, and his spirits sank. His servant, who had been ill for some days, was, to the astonishment of his master, freed from his irons, and permitted to enjoy his personal liberty. The Major enquiring of him the reason of this change, he replied: “Master, for a long time I have been thinking of consulting you, on an idea which has occurred to me. Would it not be well for me to become a Muhammadan?”

“Thou must have become mad,” returned the Major.

“No, no, I am not mad: but I see no other means of assisting you. The Turkish priest tells me that, if I submit to the ceremony of conversion to his religion, I shall no longer be kept in irons. When once I am declared free by these rogues, I shall be able to procure you linen and food⁠—and who knows what more? The God of the Russians is great! We might then see.⁠ ⁠…”

“But God will forsake thee, scoundrel, if thou renouncest thy religion;” yet, in scolding his servant, Kascambo found it difficult to refrain from laughing at the comic face which Ivan had put on, in mentioning his expedient: but when the Major, in a severe tone, repeated his reproof, the servant impatiently cried out, “Master, it is too late; I have been a Muhammadan from the day that you thought I was sick, and that my chains were taken from me. My name now is Houssein. Is there any harm in it? Can I not become a Christian again, whenever I wish⁠—and you recover your liberty? You see how I have recovered mine: on the first occasion I shall secure yours, and I hope it will soon occur.”

The promise which had been given to him was indeed so far respected, that he was no longer kept in chains, and could freely move about; but that boon was near proving fatal to him. The principal contrivers of the expedition for the capture of the Major, soon began to fear the escape of the new Mussulman. He had now remained with them long enough, and had acquired a sufficient knowledge of their affairs, to enable him to give the names and a description of them all, and of everything connected with them, to the commander of the Line, should he return thither; by which they would be individually exposed to the retaliation of the Russian authorities. They deemed therefore the zeal of their priest very ill-timed. On the other hand, the pious Mussulmans, who had evinced kindness towards him, in consideration of his conversion, were greatly scandalized to see him sometimes, when engaged in prayers on the terrace, (a public display of piety which the Mullah had confidentially assured him would gain him the good will of his new brethren,) either from long habit or inattention, cross himself while he made his prostrations in the direction of Mecca, and even turn his back to that holy city.

A few months after his feigned apostacy, he became still more certain of the altered feelings of the Tchetchengs, whose sentiments towards him had now assumed the character of decided hatred. He had sought in vain for the reason of this change, when unexpectedly some of the young men, with whom he was intimately acquainted, came to propose to him to accompany them in an expedition which they were preparing. They were to pass the Terec, for the purpose of robbing a company of merchants, who were on their way to Mosdok. Ivan accepted without hesitation the proposal, which was accompanied with an offer of a share in the booty. For a long time he had been desirous to procure arms; and he thought that all suspicions of his intention to escape would vanish, if he complied with their wishes on the present occasion. The Major having blamed him for his pliability, Ivan seemed to yield to his master’s will; but awaking one morning, Kascambo found the mat on which his servant slept rolled against the wall, and, on inquiring, heard that he had departed during the night.

The sudden confidence of the Tchetchengs, ought to have seemed suspicious to the ready soldier. It was not natural that such cunning people, who were besides suspicious and fearful of the Russians, should permit their prisoner to accompany them in an expedition against his own countrymen. In fact, their design was to kill him. His conversion obliging them to proceed with some caution and affected regard, they determined to have an eye upon him, during their march, and to kill him in the midst of the onset, in order that his death might be attributed to the merchants. The ringleaders alone knew of this plot against Ivan, and nothing but a mere accident saved him. The gang had placed themselves in ambuscade, when they were suddenly surrounded by a regiment of Cossacks, who charged them so vigorously that they had much ado to escape to the opposite side of the river, and in their confusion they almost forgot Ivan, and wholly their design against his life.

In passing the Terec in disorder, the horse of one of the band pranced and plunged, and was at last carried away by the impetuosity of the stream. Ivan, who was near the rider, threw himself with his horse into the current, at the risk of his own life, and was fortunate enough to seize the young Tchetcheng, at the moment when he was drowning, and to bring him to the shore. Some among the Cossacks recognizing him, in the dawn, by his uniform and foraging-cap, aimed at him, crying, “a deserter, whoop! halloo! a deserter; stop him!” and at the same moment his coat was pierced by several balls. At last, after having fought like a desperado, and spent the whole of his ammunition, he returned to the village, with the glory of having saved a companion, and rendered some service to the whole band.

If his conduct, on that occasion, did not gain him the affection of all his new connections, it procured him, at least, one friend. The young man whom he had saved from certain death, adopted him for his Koniac, a word which is an inviolable talisman among the mountaineers of Caucasus; and pledged himself to defend him, in every event, against whomsoever should attack him. But this connection was insufficient to secure him from the hatred of the principal inhabitants. The courage he had displayed, made his attachment to his master the more to be dreaded. They could no longer regard him as a buffoon; and the more they reflected on the unhappy issue of their expedition, the more they marvelled at the appearance of the Russian troops at so great a distance from their ordinary excursions; and they soon entertained suspicion of some secret intelligence, between the prisoners and their countrymen on the frontier. Though there was little probability of the existence of such an understanding, they watched Ivan and his master more strictly than before. Old Ibrahim, dreading some plot for the deliverance of the captives, no longer permitted them to converse together, and the faithful servant was sometimes whipped for his disobedience to that order.

Reduced to this lamentable situation, they contrived to outwit their gaoler, in a way that might make him instrumental in their success. Their habit of singing together, enabled the Major to recur to his guitar, whenever he had something important to impart to his servant. They had thus, as it were, musical conversations; and as they had long sung together, and employed their stratagem but rarely, they hoped that they should not be detected.

Upwards of three months had now elapsed, since the unsuccessful expedition, when Ivan discovered an unusual stir among the villagers. Mules carrying gunpowder had arrived from the lowlands; the inhabitants were busy in cleaning their arms, and preparing their cartridges; and he had heard that they were making themselves ready for a great expedition. The whole tribe was to unite in an attack against a neighbouring clan, that enjoyed the protection of the Russian troops, and had permitted them to construct a redoubt on their territory. Their design did not stop short of the utter extermination of the whole colony, and of the Russian battalion appointed to watch over the construction of the fortification.

A few days afterwards, Ivan, leaving his cabin early in the morning, found the village almost deserted, all the men capable of bearing arms having set out during the night. In seeking through the village for information, he acquired new proofs of the evil designs that were formed against him. Old people avoided entering into conversation with him, and a boy told him plainly that his father would soon kill him; and, while he was pensively walking towards his master’s prison, he observed on the terrace of a house a young woman, who tremblingly lifted her veil and made him signs to run away, pointing to the Russian frontier. The adviser was the sister of the young Tchetcheng whose life he had saved.

On entering his house, he found the gaoler intent on inspecting the chains of the Major. He found besides a man in the room, whom an intermittent fever had prevented from following his comrades in their expedition, and who had been sent to Ibrahim’s to watch the prisoners. Ivan affected to feel no surprise at this new precaution. He thought that the moment was come to execute his long conceived project: but the increased watchfulness of the gaoler, and the new guard, rendered the success rather uncertain. On the other hand, he had just fears of losing his life, as soon as the villagers should have returned from their excursion; for he foresaw that they would be unsuccessful, and therefore so much the more incensed against him, whom they at once hated and suspected. He had in this conjuncture, no other choice than to fly and abandon his master, or to hazard his life for their common deliverance: and he would rather a thousand times risk his existence, than aggravate the misfortune of his officer.

Kascambo had lately sunk into deep and silent despondency. But Ivan, on the day of which we speak, seemed more animated and even gayer than he had been for some time; he was uncommonly officious in the preparations for dinner, and, from time to time, with seeming negligence, began some of his usual Russian songs.

“The time is come,” said he, in a singing tone, and accompanying his words with the burden of a popular ballad; “hai luli! hai luli! the time is come to put an end to our misery, or we lose our lives. Tomorrow, hai luli! we could be on our way to a town, hai luli! a pretty town, hai luli! which I dare not to name: courage, master, hai luli! lose not your courage: the God of the Russians is great!”

Kascambo, to whom life and death had become equally indifferent, and who was not informed of the plans conceived by his servant, replied only: “Do what thou wishest, and hold thy tongue.” Towards evening, the guard who, notwithstanding his fever, had greatly enjoyed the sweets of the dinner, and done honour to the pieces of mutton which the cook had roasted on a stick, to make him taste a Russian chislick or carbonado, was, on a sudden, seized by so violent an attack of his distemper, that he was obliged to think more of his own health, than of the safekeeping of the captives. The old gaoler, whom Ivan’s gaiety had completely tranquillized, did not urge his sick comrade to remain; and Ivan, to remove still more his suspicion, had retired early in the evening into the back part of the room, and had stretched himself out on a bench near the wall, waiting, with painful impatience, for the moment that Ibrahim should also lie down to sleep. But the old gaoler had determined to watch the whole night, instead of laying himself down as usual, on the mat near the fire; and indeed, seated on a block opposite Kascambo’s resting place, he prepared himself in this way to pass the night, and dismissed his daughter-in-law, who retired to the room close by, ere her boy slept; and as soon as she entered it she bolted the door.

From the dusky corner where he was lying, Ivan examined eagerly the scene before him. The glimmer of the fire, which blazed from time to time, shone on an axe deposited in a hole in the wall. The old man, at length, over come by sleep, let his head at intervals decline on his breast. Ivan rose. The suspicious gaoler asked him immediately, in a rough tone, “What is the matter?” Instead of replying, Ivan came near the fire, yawning aloud, as a person who was just awaking from a profound sleep. Ibrahim, who was endeavouring to keep himself awake, called on Kascambo to play on his guitar. The Major refusing to comply, Ivan reached him the instrument, whispering, “Take it, I have something to tell you.” Kascambo immediately tuned the guitar, and after a short prelude sang with his servant the following duet; introducing at each question and reply, the couplets of a Russian air.

Kascambo

“Hai luli! hai luli! What hast thou to tell me?⁠—take care.

“I’m weary and sad, but in truth
No wonder my spirits have flown,
For here I expected the youth,
And now I’m forlorn and alone.
Hai luli! hai luli!
What can the matter be?⁠—
It grieves one to be thus alone.”

Ivan

“See the hatchet, but do not stare at it. Hai luli! hai luli! I shall split that rascal’s head.

“As oft as I sit at my wheel,
The thread is e’er snapping in twain.
Tomorrow I’ll spin⁠—for I feel
That today I am too much in pain.
Hai luli! hai luli!
What can the matter be,
That today I am so much in pain?”

Kascambo

“Gratuitous murder! hai luli! How could I rid myself of my irons?

“As the kid its mother attends,
As the shepherd e’er follows his sheep,
As the doe to the valley descends
When the herbage is first seen to peep
Hai luli! hai luli!
What can the matter be?
Thus fondly I watch till I weep.”

Ivan

“The key of your chains is probably in the brigand’s pocket.

“I set off at dawn with my pail;
But, ere to the fountain I come,
Unconscious I take without fail
The pathway that leads to his home.
Hailuli! hai luli!
What can the matter be?
The pathway that leads to his home.”

Kascambo

“The woman will give the alarm⁠—hai luli!

“While thus at his absence I grieve,
Ungrateful he’s free from all care;
Nay, trying perhaps to deceive
Some other too credulous fair.
Hai luli! hai luli!
What will become of me?
Some other too fortunate fair.”

Ivan

“Happen what may! would it be better to die of misery and hunger? hai luli! hai luli!

“If, forgetting the oaths he has sworn,
He leave me another to woo,
The village I’d freely see burn,
And see myself burn with it too.
Hai luli! hai luli!
Who would not pity me?⁠—
And see myself burn with it too.”

The old man becoming attentive, they repeated oftener the burden “hai luli!” and accompanied it with some loud irregular notes. “Play, master,” said the soldier, “play the Cossack song, and I will dance round the room to catch the axe: play with courage.”

Kascambo

“I will play, but methinks our last hour is at hand.”

In saying this, he turned away his head, and played with all the strength he could master.

Ivan began the steps and the grotesque attitudes of the dance, which had generally most amused the old gaoler, but now added many new jumps and gambols and screams, the more to withdraw his attention. When Kascambo supposed that Ivan was near the place where the axe was hanging, his heart beat with violence. The instrument of his deliverance was deposited in a little closet made in the wall, without a door, at a height which Ivan could with difficulty reach. Yet by a fortunate effort he seized it, and, with the same self-possession with which he had acted all this time, he laid it within the shadow of Ibrahim’s figure. The old man raised his eyes to him, when he was already again capering and whirling around the room. This awful scene had lasted already a long while, and Kascambo wanted strength and spirits to continue, the more so as he believed that his servant had lost courage, or despaired of success. He glanced thus at him, at the moment when, having seized the axe, he advanced with a firm step towards the gaoler, to discharge a deadening blow on his head. The Major’s emotion was too strong to permit him to continue playing. His guitar fell at his feet. Ibrahim had stooped down to push some brambles into the fire, the dry leaves of which immediately threw a bright blaze, and the old man adjusted himself to take his seat again.

Had Ivan proceeded, at that moment, in his design, a struggle would have ensued, and the noise probably have given the alarm; but his presence of mind obviated these dangers. As soon as he remarked the Major’s perplexity, and saw Ibrahim rise, he laid the hatchet behind the block on which the latter was sitting, and again began his dance: “Zounds! play,” said he to his master, “what are you thinking of?” The Major took his guitar. But the gaoler, without the least suspicion of his impending fate, ordered them to cease their music, and to go to sleep. Ivan went with perfect composure for the guitar case, and laid it on the hearth; but instead of taking the instrument which his master held out to him, with a sudden effort he seized the axe, and let it fall with so terrible a weight upon the head of the gaoler, that his victim fell lifeless and without a groan into the fire, and his long grizzled beard rose into a blaze. Ivan drew out the corpse by the feet, and covered it with the mat.

He and his master were now in agonizing doubts, to know whether the woman in the next room was awake; but this uncertainty did not last long; for, probably astonished of the silence which had so suddenly followed the noise of song, music and dance, she opened the door, and advancing towards the prisoner, asked “What are you doing? whence comes this smell of burnt feathers?” The little flame was almost entirely extinguished. Ivan seized the hatchet to put her to death: but she turned her head at that moment, and received the blow on her breast, uttering a piercing scream; a second stroke, more rapid than lightning, caught her in her fall, and stretched her dead at Kascambo’s feet. Struck with horror at this second murder, for which he was not prepared, and seeing his servant advance towards the room where young Mamet was sleeping, he threw himself in his way, crying aloud: “Wretch, where art thou going? couldst thou be so barbarous as to kill this innocent child also, who has evinced so much affection for me? If thou thinkest to secure my liberty at such a price, neither thy attachment, nor thy services, shall save thee from thy deserved punishment, as soon as we shall arrive at the camp.”

“At the camp,” replied Ivan, “you will do what you please, but we must first finish our business here.”

Kascambo, gathering all his strength, seized Ivan by his neck, while he was striving to force his way: “Villain, if thou darest to murder him; if thou darest to hurt a hair of his head, I swear that I will throw myself into the hands of the Tchetchengs. What would then be the result of thy cruelty?”

“Into the hands of the Tchetchengs!” repeated the soldier, in raising the bloody hatchet over his master’s head: “no, they shall never again have you alive. I would rather kill them, you, and myself, than that such a misfortune should befall us. That child would ruin us by a single cry. In the state in which I see you, women would be strong enough to put you into irons.”

“Stop, stop,” exclaimed Kascambo, endeavouring to disengage himself from his servant’s grasp. “Stop, monster! thou shalt slay me before thou shalt commit this crime.” But, embarrassed by his chains, he could not arrest the infuriated soldier, who repelled him with so much force that he fell on the floor, overcome by mental agony and the horror of the scene he had witnessed. All besmeared with the gore of the butchered victims, he rose with difficulty, and faintly said: “Ivan, Ivan, I pray thee, do not kill him; for all that is dear to thee, kill not that innocent boy.”

Feeling then, as he thought, more strength, he ran after his servant; but in gaining the door, he struck against him, in the dark, as he was coming from the room, and wildly said to him, “master, it is done. Let us lose no time, and take care not to make much noise.”⁠—“Make no noise,” continued he, instead of replying to the reproaches of his incensed master, “make no noise; what is done cannot be recalled. It is too late to shift the ground; as long as we are not perfectly free, every human being we meet, must die, or must kill me. Man, woman, child, foe, or friend, whosoever enters, must perish at my hands.” Having lighted a piece of larch-wood, he proceeded to search Ibrahim’s cartouche box and pockets, but he could not find the key to unlock his master’s chains. He looked also in vain among the woman’s furniture, into a chest, and wherever he imagined that it could be found. While he was engaged in this search, the Major abandoned himself wholly to his present emotions, Ivan endeavouring to console him as well as he could. “You would do better,” said he to him, “to lament the loss of the key. Why do you commiserate these kidnappers, who have tormented you for more than fifteen months? They intended to put us to death. Well! our life was set upon a cast, and our fortune has turned the die for us. A curse on them!”

But the bloody deed was of no avail to the prisoners, so long as Kascambo’s chains were not loosened. Ivan had, with a corner of the axe, burst the gyve by which master’s hand was fettered, but the ring round the feet resist ed his efforts. He was unable besides to act with all his strength, for fear of injuring his master. The night was advanced, and the danger was pressing. Leave the house they must. Ivan determined to bind the chain round the Major’s waist, so that he might move with his assistance, and without clattering with his irons. He put into his knapsack a leg of mutton, which yet remained from the preceding day, and some other provisions, and armed himself with the dagger and pistols of the slain, while Kascambo flung his fourka21 over his shoulders. When all this was done, they stole away, and winding round the house they went towards the mountain, instead of taking the ordinary route to Mosdok, in which direction they foresaw they would be pursued. They journeyed during the rest of the night, by the sides of the heights situated on their right, and at daybreak they entered a wood of beech-trees, which clothed the summit of the mountains, and secured them from being seen from afar. It was now the month of February, and the ground at this height and principally in the forest was still covered with hard snow, during the night and a part of the morning; but towards noon, when the sun had acted upon it, the fugitives found it difficult to continue their journey. They reached at length with great difficulty the side of a deep glen, from the bottom of which the snow had already disappeared: a beaten road, that appeared to have been much travelled, wound along a meandering stream. They considered it therefore prudent to conceal themselves behind some insulated rocks, which rose above the snowy ground. Ivan cut with his axe some branches of a fir tree, to make something like a bed for his master on the cold and damp ground; and when the Major had laid himself down, he ventured again from his hiding place, to reconnoitre the field. He saw then that the valley was encircled by high mountains, between which no opening was discoverable, and that it was impossible to avoid the beaten roadway, in order to get out of this labyrinth. Towards eleven o’clock in the evening, the snow beginning to harden by the frost, the fugitives descended into the valley, after having refreshed themselves with some morsels of mutton, some handfuls of snow, and a small draught of brandy. They traversed the valley, without meeting with any person, and entered the defile where the route and the river were narrowed, by the approach of steep and over hanging mountains. They walked on at as quick a pace as they could, fully aware of the danger of encountering their enemies, in this dark passage. It was nine o’clock in the morning when they got out of it, and not until then did they discover, beyond the lowest mountains which lay extended before them, the frontier of Russia, like a distant sea. However deeply we may enter into Kascambo’s feelings at that moment, we should not venture to describe the enthusiastic joy with which he exclaimed: “Russia! oh, Russia!” the only words he was capable of uttering. He and his servant sat down, at the same instant, less to take rest, than to enjoy in their imaginations, the delights of approaching liberty. Yet this delicious anticipation was soon clouded in the Major’s mind, by his recollections of the shocking catastrophe which he had so recently witnessed, and which his gory hands and dress, and his chains, contributed to keep constantly before his eyes. Pondering, besides, on the difficulties and dangers which might yet await him, and harassed by the pains he suffered from his swollen and excoriated feet, his transports were but of very short duration, and were followed by a feverish heat which increased the raging of his thirst. Ivan, while on his way down to the river which ran a little way off, to procure water for his master, found a bridge, constructed of two trees, from which he could discern, at some distance, a hut like the summer-dwellings of the Tchetchengs, and which was obviously uninhabited. In the situation in which the fugitives found themselves, the discovery of such a shelter was hailed by them as a very fortunate event. Ivan immediately rejoined his master, to accompany him to that refuge, and when he had assured himself that there were no other inmates, he proceeded to a thorough investigation of the stores.

The inhabitants of Caucasus, who, for the most part, have the habits of a roving people, and are continually exposed to the hostile incursions of their neighbours, are obliged to conceal carefully near their dwellings their provisions and moveables, in cellars resembling narrow wells, which are covered with a plank or a large stone, and overlaid with a bed of earth. Lest the colour of the grass should lead to the discovery of these excavations, care is taken to make them only in places entirely devoid of turf. All these precautions are, however, unavailing against Russian soldiers, who have long since found out, that in order to discover the hidden treasures, they need only to beat the ground around the dwellings with the ramrods of their guns, until it reechoes the strokes. After a similar process, Ivan was so fortunate as to discover a small provision of maize, a lump of salt, some hazelnuts, and several pieces of kitchen and house furniture, all which became very useful to the weary fugitives; and while the leg of mutton and the potatoes, brought in the knapsack, were in fair progress, Ivan renewed his efforts to unlock his master’s chains, and succeeded at length in rending them in twain. From that moment, the Major recovered some buoyancy of spirit, and, after an abundant repast, was tempted to enjoy a short sleep. But he did not awake before nine o’clock in the morning; and when he endeavoured to rise, his limbs were so swollen and stiffened, that every motion occasioned him much pain. As, however, his life was at stake, he dragged himself along, supported by his servant, but expecting to sink at every moment, under the anguish of his painful and continual sufferings. Yet when he became heated by the efforts he was obliged to make, his pains insensibly diminished, and he was thus able to march the whole night. In some pauses that he made to gather strength, he once or twice yielded again to despondency; and throwing himself on the ground, begged his servant to let him wait with resignation his irremediable fate. But the hardy soldier, in stead of harkening to such entreaties, or imitating his master, gallantly assumed the tone of a leader, and, either by exhorting him to courage and fortitude, or carrying him forcibly onward, prevailed on him to continue their flight. They reached at length in the darkness a difficult and dangerous pass, which it was impossible to avoid. They could not stop until the dawn of the day, without sacrificing a time that was very precious to them; and yet they could not venture on that route, without running the risk of falling headlong over some precipice. Ivan determined not only to be in the vanguard, as usual, but to take a survey, before he should lead his master into so much peril. While he groped his way down the declivity, Kascambo remained on the edge of the crag in agonizing suspense. Amidst the awful darkness of the night, he heard the hoarse murmurs of a rapid river running through the deep valley, and the crash of fragments of rocks, that tumbled into the water, while Ivan descended the cliff, and by which he became more sensible of the dangers that surrounded him. He remembered then the sorrowful presentiments of his mother, when he last parted from her, but he remembered also her fervent blessings, and reanimated by this latter recollection, he exclaimed: “Almighty God! grant me the felicity of seeing her once more.” He had scarce finished his short but devout prayer, when Ivan was already again near him. He had found the descent far less difficult than he expected. After groping down some distance between the crags, they had to go by the side of a narrow and inclined bank of rock, covered with slippery snow, below which the mountain terminated in a precipice. Ivan having hewn the frozen ground before him, to avoid falling, set out anew, guiding his master through the dangerous passage. Both in starting crossed themselves, and the Major, impelled by his pious emotions, said: “No, if I must perish, it shall not be for a want of courage, but the result of my ill-health; I will now walk as long as God will give me strength.” They got in safety through the perilous passage, and did not stop in their journey. At length the pathway began to be more and more beaten, and the snow disappeared, except towards the north or in deep hollows. They did not meet with any human being until daybreak. Discovering then, at a distance, two travellers who advanced towards them, they hastened to stretch themselves on the ground, in the hope of escaping their observations.

In emerging from the mountains in that direction, the traveller finds himself in an uncultivated country totally without trees, except some few on the banks of the large rivers, though the soil is very fertile. When our fugitives resumed their journey, they followed for some time the course of the Sonja, which they must cross in order to reach Mosdok, and looked about for some place where they might ford the river without much peril. They were yet engaged in that search, when they saw a person on horseback advancing towards them. There was neither tree nor shrub, behind which they could have concealed themselves, and they were obliged to keep close to the bank. The traveller was approaching. They determined not to attack, but, if necessary, to stand upon the defensive. Ivan drew his poniard, and gave the pistol to the Major. But, upon discovering that the traveller was a boy of twelve or thirteen years of age, Ivan rushed upon him, seized him by his leg, and dragged him to the ground. The lad attempted to defend himself, but when the Major joined the assailant, the boy took to his heels and ran off. Master and servant then mounted the horse, and, by the depth of the channel, were made sensible how impossible it would have been for them to ford it. The pony, with his two riders, was near being carried away by the rush of the current. They, however, reached the opposite shore without accident, but found it so steep that the horse could gain no footing upon it. They therefore alighted, and Ivan strove to draw the panting and terrified animal after him, but it soon left the halter in his hands, and he saw it, after some ineffectual struggles to mount the bank, disappear under the water.

This accident would have been more distressing to them, had they not already crossed the river: after some exclamations of pity for the poor animal, they bent their way towards an eminence covered with detached rocks, behind which they hoped to find a shelter, and a place of rest. In calculating the time they had been journeying, they concluded that the district of the pacific Tchetchengs could not be very distant. They had little confidence in these pretended friends of the Russians. Kascambo, however, was too much enfeebled, to expect to reach the banks of the Terec, unless they should procure some assistance, their little stock of provisions being now exhausted.

They spent the rest of that day in mournful silence, averse to increase their sufferings by an interchange of the reflections which their situation suggested. Towards evening, the Major observed his servant striking his forehead and uttering a deep groan. Astonished at this sudden fit of despair, in his stouthearted companion, he asked him the reason of it. “Master,” replied Ivan, “I am a miserable wretch!”

“God forgive thee,” said the Major.

“Oh, I have committed a great folly. I have forgotten the musket which hung over little Mamet’s bed. Your moaning was the cause of it. Faith, sir, I see no reason to laugh. It was the best musket in the whole village: if I had it, we could hope to prevail on some traveller, whom we may chance to meet, to assist us; but, pennyless and wretched as we are, I really don’t know how we shall reach the Terec.”

To the still greater discomfiture of our travellers, the weather became very bad. A cold wind, accompanied with hail, blew directly in their faces. They, notwithstanding, jogged on heavily, without having yet made up their minds, though the night had already set in, whether it would be better for them to gain some village, or avoid the danger they might incur by so doing. But a new accident that happened to them, towards dawn of day, greatly contributed to resolve that question. In passing a swamp covered with ice, they plunged up to their knees in the water, and the Major became so wet, that in a short time, wholly overcome by this new cause of tribulation, joined to his weariness and long suffering, he again repined bitterly at his unhappy lot, and determined not to move a step farther; but solicitous to preserve his servant for a better fate than that to which he now resigned himself, he said to him: “Ivan, hear me: heaven is my witness that I have done my utmost, to bear the weight of my misfortunes. But you see that my efforts are as unavailing as thy kind assistance. Go to the Line, dear Ivan⁠—return to the regiment; I command thee to do it. Say to my friends and to the Colonel, that thou hast left me a prey for ravens and murderers. Say I wish they may never suffer such extremities as we have endured. But before departing, remember the oath thou hast made on the bleeding bodies of our enemies. Thou hast sworn that no Tchetcheng shall ever again have me alive! Comply now with that solemn engagement!” In saying this he stretched himself on the ground under his cloak.

“There remains yet one resource,” said Ivan: “what if we were to try our fortune with a Tchetcheng, and endeavour to persuade him, by promises of reward, to lend us some assistance? If he betrays us, we shall at least have done all that remained for us to do, to save ourselves. Endeavour, Master, to walk yet a little way. Or, if you prefer,” added he, observing that his master did not answer, “if you prefer, I will go alone, and, if I succeed, I shall soon be here again with someone, who will take you to his house: if I do not return, you will have this ultimate resource.” He then extended the pistol to his master, who raised his hand from under his cloak to take it.

Ivan threw over him grass and brushwood, to conceal him from those who might pass on the road, during his own absence. When he had gone some steps, his master called to him: “Ivan, hear yet a word: shouldst thou reach the redoubt and see my mother.⁠ ⁠…”

“Master,” interrupted Ivan, “we may yet see each other on the road. Should you perish, neither your mother nor my own shall see me.”

After an hour’s march, the soldier discovered from a little eminence, two villages at three or four versts distance: but these were not what he sought; he hoped to enter secretly an insulated habitation, to make a better bargain with its owner. Looking carefully about him, he thought he might venture to present himself at a lonely hut, the smoke of which scarcely rose above the ground. Thither he directed his steps, and in a few minutes found himself close by the owner of the hut, who was sitting on the ground busied in mending his boots. “I come,” said Ivan without farther preface, “I come to offer thee two hundred roubles, and to ask a favour. Thou hast doubtless heard of Major Kascambo, who was captured by the mountaineers. I have brought him off; he is a few steps from here, sick and in thy power. If thou wishest to deliver him to his enemies, they will, of course, thank thee; but thou well knowest that they will not add any reward to their empty acknowledgments. On the contrary, if thou shouldst favour his escape, by only sheltering him for three days, I will go to Mosdok, and bring thee two hundred fair roubles in silver, for his ransom. Before thou answerest, let me tell thee, that if thou darest to move from this place, or to call for the assistance of anyone to arrest me, I lay thee, with this poniard, dead at my feet. Choose therefore⁠—thy alternative is immediate death, or accepting the terms of my promise.”

The Tchetcheng, less intimidated by Ivan’s threats than seduced by his offers, laying his boot aside, replied: “Young man, I also have a dagger in my belt, and I do not fear thee. Hadst thou not spoken like a foe, I never would have betrayed a man who had entered my house: but after thy behaviour, I can neither give any promise nor encourage thy hopes. But take a seat, and tell me what thou wantest.” Ivan, knowing now the man he had to deal with, sheathed his poniard, laid himself on the ground, and repeated his proposal. “What security canst thou give,” asked the Tchetcheng, “for the fulfilment of thy promises?”

“I shall leave my master in thy hands: canst thou suppose that I would have endured such sufferings for fifteen months, only to bring him here?”

“Well, I will trust thee: but two hundred roubles are not enough; thou must give me four hundred.”

“Why dost thou not ask four thousand? If my intention were not to keep my word, I would say yea; but wouldst thou oblige me to deceive thee?”

“Thou art right. Be it then as thou hast said; two hundred roubles. But wilt thou surely be back in three days, and return alone?”

“Yes, my word for it. But, friend, thou hast not yet made the requested promise, nor recognized my master as thy guest.”

“Well! I acknowledge him as such, and thee also.” Saying this, the Tchetcheng extended his hand to Ivan, and both immediately joined the Major, whom they found perishing with cold and hunger.

Ivan, being informed that Tchervelians kaya-Staniza was nearer than Mosdok, and knowing that a considerable detachment of Cossacks was stationed at the former place, bent thither his way; and soon obtained the money he wanted for the Major’s rescue. Amongst the Cossacks, there were many who had followed Kascambo on his unfortunate expedition. Each of them and their comrades gave his little mite; and on the day appointed, Ivan departed for the place where his master was concealed. But the commanding officer of the station, apprehensive of some new act of treachery, on the part of the Tchetchengs, would not permit him to go alone, and gave him as an escort a small body of Cossacks.

This untimely precaution might have been fatal to Kascambo. His host had no sooner discerned the lances of the horsemen, than, suspicious of treason, and prompted by the fearless ferocity of his nation, he carried his captive on the platform of his house, attached him to a stake, and planted himself opposite to him, with a carbine. When Ivan was near enough to hear his voice, he cried to him: “If you advance one step I kill your master, and I have yet fifty cartouches for my enemies, and the traitor who has brought them.” While he said this, and during the short dialogue which followed, he aimed at the Major.

“Thou art not betrayed,” anxiously answered the faithful servant. “It is not my fault that I do not return alone, but, though accompanied, I am ready to give thee the stipulated ransom.”

“Command the Cossacks to retire, or I pull my trigger.”

At that critical moment, Kascambo cried to the officer of the Cossacks to retire; and they retreated to some distance, accompanied by Ivan, who, however, soon returned to his master. But the suspicious Tchetcheng would not permit him to approach. He obliged him to count the money on the road, at some distance from the house, and to retire as soon as he had done so.

The Tchetcheng went to take the ransom, and then returned to the terrace, where kneeling at the Major’s feet, he craved his pardon, and begged him to forget the ill-treatment which, for sake of his own safety, he had been obliged to make him endure. “I shall only remember,” answered Kascambo, “that I have been thy guest, and that thou hast kept thy word. But stop, thou hast not yet given me my liberty.” Ivan approaching anew, the Tchetcheng, instead of loosening the Major’s bonds, sprang from the terrace on the ground and ran off at full speed.

On the same day, honest Ivan had the glory and satisfaction to see his master surrounded by friends, who had long abandoned all hope of his deliverance.

The narrator of this anecdote happening, some months after the Major’s final rescue, to pass, in the night, before a small but neat house of Iegroviesky,22 alighted from his coach to inquire the occasion of the gay scene, which was passing within. A young Sergeant was standing near the window, apparently also an unbidden spectator of the dance.

“Who gives the ball?” inquired the traveller.

“It is our Major’s wedding.”

“What is your Major’s name?”

“Kascambo.”

The traveller, who had heard the Major’s eventful story, was glad that he had yielded to his curiosity, and desired to know which of the officers, assembled in the room, was Kascambo. The individual to whom the Sergeant pointed, did not then seem to have ever endured any suffering. — “Pray, show me also the honest soldier, who delivered him.”

The Sergeant, after a little hesitation, answered: “Sir, I am the person.” The traveller, greatly pleased with the fortunate accident which had procured him the personal acquaintance of the brave soldier, was much struck with his youthful appearance. He had not indeed attained his twentieth year, and had just been advanced to his present rank, and received a sum of money, as a reward for his courage and fidelity. When the stranger expressed his surprise at not seeing him among the guests, assembled at the Major’s wedding, and, on that account, taxed the latter with ingratitude, Ivan, without uttering a word, but frowning angrily at the censor, and whistling the burden of his favourite song, “Hai luli! hai luli!” entered the house; and when the traveller looked again into the room, he saw him proudly moving among his officers.