Volume Two—Chapter Nine.

Among the beetling crags of the high, dark, and rugged mountains, which surround the still more gigantic and terrific Elborous, is a deep glen, more wild and fearful than the many other fissures into which the mountains have been rent by some awful convulsion of nature, forming the only accessible approach to a wide bason, round which precipitous cliffs arise on every side. Their lofty and pointed summits are insurmountable, even by the wild goat or active chamois.

It appeared as if nature had formed the spot expressly to serve as a fortification for outlaws, as a dozen or twenty men could at all times defend the entrance from a host of foes. It was for this reason that the ancestors of the present occupier of the country had selected it as a spot on which to fix his abode, probably on account of his own lawless disposition, that he might sally forth from this strong hold, and commit forays on his neighbours, with a secure place to retire to with his booty, without fear of reprisal. Be that as it may, his descendants had followed constantly the same occupation; rushing down on the unguarded and unsuspecting villagers of the plains, carrying off their cattle, and seizing on themselves as slaves.

The first of the present race who inhabited this wild spot, was a Khan of high rank in Tartary; one of the many who escaped with the exiled King into the mountains of the Caucasus, when driven from his throne by the Russians under the grasping Catharine. There they were hospitably and joyfully received by the brave people from whose blood they had originally sprung; great numbers, therefore, settled in Abasia, and their followers adhering to them through good and evil, they thus formed powerful tribes in their new mountain homes.

From the marauding practices of the ancestor of Khoros Kaloret Khan, he was possessed of large herds of cattle, flocks of sheep, numerous slaves, and a breed of high-mettled steeds, from the stock which they had brought with them from Tartary. Thus possessed of abundance of wealth, he refrained from practices followed in more lawless times. He was at the head also of a numerous band of retainers, who obeyed him implicitly as their hereditary chief and master; so that besides his rank, he was a person of great consideration in the country, though perhaps more feared from his power to do evil, than loved for the benefits he conferred on his neighbours.

His temper, being uncontrolled, was fierce and violent, so that none of his retainers dared to disobey his slightest orders; yet they followed him willingly to battle, for he was, at the same time, a brave and skilful leader, and the Russians had often felt the power of his arm in his tremendous onslaughts. No sooner did they commence hostilities against the tribes of Caucasus, than his father, leading out his clansmen from their fastnesses, proved himself one of their most bitter and unceasing enemies. Deep and fierce was his revenge for the wrongs which Crim Tartary had endured at their hands.

Sending once some of his people to throw themselves in their way, in order to act as guides to them, he drew a large body among the fastnesses of the mountains, where, having lain in ambush, he set upon them with his followers, and slaughtered several hundreds on the spot. The others, attempting to take refuge among the caverns and rocks, were hunted like wild beasts. For several days did the savage chase continue; every avenue for their escape was so guarded, that none returned to tell the tale of their disasters. Those who were not taken and put to the sword, died of starvation among the barren mountains.

The young Khan and his brother had imbibed from their father the same bitter hostility towards their foes; but revenge ruled their breasts more than love for their adopted country; and the ungovernable and fiery temper of the elder, often led him to commit excesses, even among his own followers, of which his father was not guilty.

Such was the suitor for the hand of the gentle Ina; and though Arslan Gherrei loved him not, yet he was not fully acquainted with his real character; nor could he, without giving good reason, refuse his suit without a deadly insult, as he himself was descended, by his mother’s side, from the same race, though of a royal line.

The house of the chief, near which was erected a high watch-tower, was built directly facing the rocky defile leading to the green circular plain or bason before described, thus commanding a view of all who approached.

The Khan was pacing under the verandah in front of his house, in a state of violent excitement.

“See you any one coming?” he shouted to a page stationed on the summit of the watch-tower. “Why tarries my brother thus? Why sends he not messengers to announce the coming of my bride? Surely he would not fail to send, and give me time to meet the beauteous girl, with due honour, on the way. He is not wont to disobey my orders. See you none coming, slave?” he again vociferated. “See you none coming?”

“On my head be it, Khan, I see not one speck moving in the whole of the glen,” answered the page.

“Am I your Khan, that you hasten not?” he cried, to some attendants waiting at a little distance. “Do you, Zand, take the fleetest steed, and fly towards Ghelendjik for three hours, returning without delay; and see that you bring me tidings of my coming bride, or of my brother’s messengers.”

The man hastened to obey the order, the Khan continuing his irregular and agitated walk as before, every now and then turning his glance down the glen, then shouting to his watchman to learn if he had caught sight of any one approaching. The answer was as before. His impatience increased.

“Saddle me a steed, knaves—haste, fly. Am I not your Khan, that you make no better speed?”

A horse was quickly brought him; when, throwing himself into the saddle, he rode furiously down the dark ravine; but he soon returned, on the back of the panting animal, from the fruitless search.

His temper was not assuaged by his headlong and heating ride; as throwing the reins to a slave, who stood trembling to take his horse, he resumed his hurried walk in front of his dwelling.

Another hour passed, when the look-out man, on the watch-tower, gave notice that he saw a horseman coming up the glen. As he approached nearer, he proved to be only one of the messengers despatched in the morning, and he reported that he could gain no intelligence of any of the young Khan’s escort.

The shades of evening were beginning to throw a deep gloom into the glen, when the look-out man again cried that he saw a party of horsemen approaching.

The Khan instantly threw himself on a gaily caparisoned steed, preceded by his banner-bearer. His squire and pages followed, with the principal of his retainers, and galloped down the glen to meet the expected bride. What was his rage and disappointment when he did not see his brother’s towering form, or the white veil of the betrothed; but met, instead, the travel-worn and agitated band of retainers who had set out with him?

“Where is my brother, and where my bride?” he exclaimed, riding furiously towards them with his drawn scimitar uplifted. “Say, caitiffs, ere I slay you.”

“As Allah is great, we dare not say, Khan, where your brother is. We know not—we cannot speak,” answered the foremost of the party. “The fair daughter of the Uzden Arslan Gherrei is with her father.”

“What! does she not come with my brother? Speak, slaves; answer, I charge you,” cried the Khan.

“This only we know, Khan. On my head be it that I say truth,” replied the first speaker:

“The brother of the Khan parted from the Uzden Arslan Gherrei in anger, that he would not let his daughter come to be queen of our chief’s anderoon. We then travelled towards the castle of the Urus at Ghelendjik, where Besin Khan, taking with him only Kiru, ordered us to proceed a day’s journey, and then wait for him. For two days he came not. We waited a third, and we then went to search for him. We heard that there had been a bloody fight between some of the tribes on the coast and the Urus, and we thought our young Khan would not have been absent; but all, of whom we asked for news of him, turned aside, and would not answer. We then went to the shore, where the combat took place, and among heaps of the vile soldiers of the Urus, almost destroyed by the birds of prey and wild beasts, we found the sabre, which was our young master’s, broken, and his iron cap and his corslet, with a deep dent on its centre.”

As he spoke, the horsemen opened their ranks, and discovered between them, on a led horse, the shattered arms of Besin Khan.

“As Allah is great, Khan, this is all we know,” added the man.

The rage of the chief seemed for a moment abated, by the shock he had experienced at the account of his brother’s too probable death. But it as suddenly returned.

“What lies are those you speak, villains?” he exclaimed. “Is it the custom of the chiefs of Abbaseik to leave their companion warriors when slain on the field? Though he had not his own clansmen with him, think you the other nobles would not have brought off his body were he slain? No; those cannot be the arms of my brother. If you have lied, some of you shall suffer for this. Follow me to my house. We will see, when light is brought, if these are truly my brother’s arms.”

And turning his horse’s head, he rode hastily homeward.

Throwing himself on a divan, in his principal apartment, followed by all the newly-arrived troop, he caused torches to be brought, and the arms to be placed before him. He examined them narrowly.

“Alas, my Khan!” said one of his attendants, “the hilt of this sabre I know it too well. Often have I seen it in your noble brother’s hand.”

“Peace, fool!” answered the Khan, furiously. “Think you that I know not my brother’s sword? Yes, those are his arms, and I will make those pay dearly who have cast this indignity on my father’s son. He would not, if living, have left his weapons on the field; and by Allah and his Prophet, I swear that I will have revenge. He may have fallen into the hands of the Urus; but no, Besin Khan would not be taken alive. I will go to the chieftains of the Attèghèi, engaged in this combat, and make them pay dearly for thus deserting my brother, if he was slain. If he were near, and heard the sounds of strife, so assuredly would he have rushed into the thickest of the fight; and if he fell by those hated Urus, doubly will I wreak my vengeance on all of their cursed race who fall into my hands. Yet what is the blood of a whole host of such as they are, to one drop of the blood of my noble brother? He would have died for me, and shall I rest while I live to avenge him? No; his spirit calls to me from the grave.”

He rose, and walked in an excited manner through the chamber, shaking his clenched hand in the air.

“Perchance even yet, my brother, thou art not slain! Wherever thou art, at the hands of that proud Uzden Arslan Gherrei, I will demand thee. He must know where thou art. Why should he refuse me his daughter? Am not I as noble as he? Have I not more faithful followers, more flocks and herds? Then why does he refuse to let the maiden come to my anderoon?”

On the next morning, a fierce and warlike band were ready to follow the Khan, as, clothed in rich and glittering armour, with his banner borne before him, he left his mountain home, nor tarried on his road, but with furious speed galloped on, like some cataract descending from a lofty mountain to the plain.

The band of horsemen issued from the glen, passing along the giddy edge of precipices, fearless of danger, down the steep sides of the rugged mountains, along the dry rocky bed of the winter torrent, never drawing rein.

The inhabitants of the villages and hamlets ran out on hearing the rattling hoofs of the steeds, as the fiery Khan and his followers galloped by; but none greeted him as he passed, and, like a whirlwind, vanished from their sight.

“Ai! ai!” cried the aged villagers. “Is the Khan again on a foray? Woe betide the hapless people of the plain he pounces on; or if he rides against the Urus, many will rue his coming, as he gallops over the slaughtered bodies of their countrymen.”