, and a mist was
beginning to creep along the gorges.

"It occurred to me to pop in under the shed where our horses were
standing, to see whether they had their fodder; and, besides, it is
never any harm to take precautions. My horse was a splendid one too, and
more than one Kabardian had already cast fond glances at it, repeating
at the same time: 'Yakshi tkhe chok yakshi.' [9]

"I stole along the fence. Suddenly I heard voices, one of which I
immediately recognised.

"It was that of the young pickle, Azamat, our host's son. The other
person spoke less and in a quieter tone.

"'What are they discussing there?' I wondered. 'Surely it can't be
my horse!' I squatted down beside the fence and proceeded to play the
eavesdropper, trying not to let slip a single word. At times the noise
of songs and the buzz of voices, escaping from the hut, drowned the
conversation which I was finding interesting.

"'That's a splendid horse of yours,' Azamat was saying. 'If I were
master of a house of my own and had a stud of three hundred mares, I
would give half of it for your galloper, Kazbich!'

"'Aha! Kazbich!' I said to myself, and I called to mind the coat of
mail.

"'Yes,' replied Kazbich, after an interval of silence. 'There is not
such another to be found in all Kabardia. Once--it was on the other side
of the Terek--I had ridden with the Abreks to seize the Russian herds.
We had no luck, so we scattered in different directions. Four Cossacks
dashed after me. I could actually hear the cries of the giaours behind
me, and in front of me there was a dense forest. I crouched down in the
saddle, committed myself to Allah, and, for the first time in my life,
insulted my horse with a blow of the whip. Like a bird, he plunged among
the branches; the sharp thorns tore my clothing, the dead boughs of the
cork-elms struck against my face! My horse leaped over tree-trunks and
burst his way through bushes with his chest! It would have been
better for me to have abandoned him at the outskirts of the forest and
concealed myself in it afoot, but it was a pity to part with him--and
the Prophet rewarded me. A few bullets whistled over my head. I could
now hear the Cossacks, who had dismounted, running upon my tracks.
Suddenly a deep gully opened before me. My galloper took thought--and
leaped. His hind hoofs slipped back off the opposite bank, and he
remained hanging by his fore-feet. I dropped the bridle and threw myself
into the hollow, th