particular attention, and with cold politeness replied in monosyllables
to the flatteries and obeisances of his inferiors. He waved his hand;
this was the signal to commence the race.

[17] The first Shamkhals were the kinsmen and representatives
of the Khalifs of Damascus: the last Shamkhal died on his
return from Russia, and with him finished this useless rank.
His son, Suleiman Pacha, possessed his property as a private
individual.

[18] The attendants of a Tartar noble, equivalent to the
"henchman" of the ancient Highlanders. The nouker waits behind
his lord at table, cuts up and presents the food.

Twenty of the most fiery horsemen dashed forward, without the slightest
order or regularity, galloping onward and back again, placing themselves
in all kinds of attitudes, and alternately passing each other. At one
moment they jostled one another from the course, and at the same time
held in their horses, then again they let them go at full gallop over
the plain. After this, they each took slender sticks, called djigidis,
and darted them as they rode, either in the charge or the pursuit, and
again seizing them as they flew, or picking them up from the earth.
Several tumbled from their saddles under the strong blows; and then
resounded the loud laugh of the spectators, while loud applauses greeted
the conqueror; sometimes the horses stumbled, and the riders were thrown
over their heads, hurled off by a double force from the shortness of
their stirrups. Then commenced the shooting. Ammalat Bek had remained a
little apart, looking on with apparent pleasure. His noukers, one after
the other, had joined the crowd of djigiterers, so that, at last, only
two were left by his side. For some time he was immovable, and followed
with an indifferent gaze the imitation of an Asiatic combat; but by
degrees his interest grew stronger. At first he watched the cavaliers
with great attention, then he began to encourage them by his voice and
gestures, he rose higher in his stirrups, and at last the warrior-blood
boiled in his veins, when his favourite nouker could not hit a cap which
he had thrown down before him. He snatched his gun from his attendants,
and dashed forward like an arrow, winding among the sporters. "Make
way--make way!" was heard around, and all, dispersing like a rain-cloud
on either side, gave place to Ammalat Bek.

At the distance of a verst[19] stood ten poles with caps hangin