s there strange in this? The past glides from him as water
from the wild-duck. His neighbours will be delighted when he has
finished his term of brigandage. And he, after putting off Abretchestva
(Abrekism) as a serpent sheds his skin, will become gentle
as a lamb. Among us, none but the avenger of blood remembers
yesterday. But the night is darkening. The mists are spreading over
Terek. It is time for the work."

Djemboulat whistled, and his whistle was repeated to all the
outposts of the camp. In a moment the whole band was assembled.
Several Ouzdens joined from the neighbouring friendly villages.
After a short discussion as to the passage of the river, the band
moved in silence to the bank. Ammalat Bek could not but admire the
stillness, not only of the riders, but of their horses; not one of
them neighed or snorted, and they seemed to place their feet on the
ground with caution. They marched like a voiceless cloud, and soon
they reached the bank of Terek, which, making a winding at this spot,
formed a promontory, and from it to the opposite shore, extended a
pebbly shoal. The water over this bank was shallow and fordable;
nevertheless, a part of the detachment left the shore higher up, in
order to swim past the Kazaks, and, diverting their attention from
the principal passage, to cover the fording party. Those who had
confidence in their horses, leaped unhesitatingly from the bank,
while others tied to each fore-foot of their steeds a pair of small
skins, inflated with air like bladders; the current bore them on,
and each landed wherever he found a convenient spot. The
impenetrable veil of mist concealed all these movements. It must be
remarked, that along the whole line of the river is a chain of mayaks
(watch-towers) and a cordon of sentinels: on all the hills and
elevated spots are placed look-outs. On passing before them in the
daytime, may be seen on each hillock a pole, surmounted with a small
barrel. This is filled with pitch and straw, and is ready to be
lighted on the first alarm. To this pole is generally tied a Kazak's
horse, and by his side a sentinel. In the night, these sentinels are
doubled; but in spite of the precautions, the Tcherkess, concealed
by the fog, and clothed in their bourka, sometimes pass through the
line in small bodies, as water glides through a sieve. The same
thing happened on this occasion: perfectly acquainted with the
country, the Belads, (guides) peaceable Tcherkess, led each p