arty,
and in profound silence avoided the hillocks.

[Footnote 22: This is exactly the Berserkir of the ancient Northmen.
Examples of this frantic courage are not rare among the Asiatics.]

In two places only had the brigands, to break through the line of
watch-fires which might have betrayed them, resolved to kill the
sentinels. Against one picket, Djemboulat proceeded himself, and he
ordered another Bek to creep up the bank, pass round to the rear of
the picket, count a hundred, and then to strike fire with a flint
and steel several times. It was said and done. Just lifting his head
above the edge of the bank, Djemboulat saw a Kazak slumbering with
the match in his hand, and holding his horse by the bridle. As soon
as the clicking struck his ear, the sentinel started, and turned an
anxious look on the river. Fearing that the sentinel did not remark
him, Djemboulat threw up his cap, and again crouched down behind the
bank. "Accursed duck!" said the Donetz; "for this night is a carnival.
They squatter away like the witches of Kieff." At this moment, the
sparks appeared on the opposite side, and drew his attention: "'Tis
the wolves," thought he: "sometimes their eyes glitter brightly!" But
the sparks reappearing, he was stupefied, remembering stories that
the Tchetchenetzes sometimes use this kind of signal to regulate the
movements of their march. This moment of suspense and irresolution was
the moment of his destruction; a dagger [23], directed by a strong arm,
whistled through the air, and the Kazak, transfixed, fell without a
groan to the earth. His comrade was sabred in his sleep, and the pole
with the tub was torn down, and was thrown into the river. All then
rapidly assembled at the given signal, and dashed in a moment on the
village which they had determined to attack. The blow was successfully,
that is, quite unexpectedly, struck. Such of the peasants as had time
to arm, were killed after a desperate resistance: the others hid
themselves or fled. Besides the plunder, a number of men and women
was the reward of their boldness. The Kabardinetzes broke into the
houses, carrying off all that was most valuable, indeed every thing
that came to hand: but they did not set fire to the houses, nor did
they tread down the corn, nor break the vines: "Why touch the gift
of God, and the labour of man?" said they; and this rule of a
mountain robber, who shrinks at no crime, is a virtue which the most
civilized nations might