heart.

But our adventurers had no such murderous design as this. To capture a
live Russian was their aim.

The front reached, and the Turkish line of sentries safely passed in the
fog, they came unexpectedly on two Russian horsemen who were cautiously
riding towards the Turkish lines. These horsemen were Sergeant
Gotsuchakoff and Corporal Shoveloff. They had been visiting the
outposts, and, before returning, were making a little private
reconnaissance of the enemy's disposition, for Gotsuchakoff and
Shoveloff were enthusiasts in their way, and fond of adventure.

The ground at the spot being much broken, and affording facility for
concealment, especially to men on foot, Eskiwin and Ali Bobo crept
unseen upon a low cliff, and lay down behind a mass of rocks.

The Russians chanced to select the same spot as a point of observation,
but, instead of riding to the top of the eminence, where they would have
been rather conspicuous, they rode under the cliff and halted just
below,--not far distant from the spot where the Turks lay, so that
Eskiwin, craning his long neck over the rocks, could look down on the
helmets of the Russian cavaliers.

For some minutes the sergeant and corporal conversed in whispers. This
was exceedingly tantalising to the friends above! The hiss of their
voices could be distinctly heard. Eskiwin's long arm could almost have
reached them with a lance. Presently the corporal rode slowly away,
became dim in the fog, and finally disappeared, while the sergeant
remained immoveable like an equestrian statue.

"This," whispered Ali Bobo solemnly, "is more than I can stand."

Eskiwin whispered in reply that he would have to stand it whether he
could or not.

Bobo didn't agree with him (not an unusual condition of mind with
friends). He looked round. A huge stone lay at his elbow. It seemed
to have been placed there on purpose. He rose very slowly, lifted the
stone, held it in a position which is familiar to Scotch Highlanders,
and hurled it with tremendous force down on the head of Sergeant
Gotsuchakoff.

The sergeant bowed to circumstances. Without even a cry, he tumbled off
his horse and laid his helmet in the dust.

The Turks leaped down, seized him in their powerful arms, and carried
him away, while the frightened horse bolted. It followed, probably, an
animal instinct, and made for the Russian lines.

The corporal chanced to return at that moment. The Turks dropped their
burde