a Bek possessing the right to the Shamkhalat would place in his hands a thousand means of injuring the Russians.  The Khansha, occupied in her household affairs, not infrequently left Ammalat for hours together in her apartments—­as he was a relation; and Seltanetta, with two or three of her personal attendants, seated on cushions, and engaged in needlework, would not remark how the hours flew by, conversing with the guest, and listening to his talk.  Sometimes Ammalat would sit long, long, reclining at the feet of his Seltanetta, without uttering a word, and gazing at her dark, absorbing eyes; or enjoying the mountain prospect from her window, which opened towards the north, on the rugged banks and windings of the roaring Ouzen, over which hung the castle of the Khan.  By the side of this being, innocent as a child, Ammalat forgot the desires which she as yet knew not; and, dissolving in a joy, strange, incomprehensible to himself, he thought not of the past nor of the future; he thought of nothing—­he could only feel; and indolently, without taking the cup from his lips, he drained his draught of bliss, drop by drop.

Thus passed a year.

The Avaretzes are a free people, neither acknowledging nor suffering any power above them.  Every Avaretz calls himself an Ouzden; and if he possesses a yezeer, (prisoner, slave,) he considers himself a great man.  Poor, and consequently brave to extravagance, excellent marksmen with the rifle, they fight well on foot; they ride on horseback only in their plundering expeditions, and even then but a few of them.  Their horses are small, but singularly strong; their language is divided into a multitude of dialects, but is essentially Lezghin for the Avartzi themselves are of the Lezghin stock.  They retain traces of the Christian faith, for it is not 120 years that they have worshipped Mahomet, and even now they are but cool Moslems; they drink brandy, they drink booza, [16] and occasionally wine made of grapes, but most ordinarily a sort of boiled wine, called among them djapa.  The truth of an Avaretz’s word has passed into a proverb among the mountains.  At home, they are peaceful, hospitable, and benevolent; they do not conceal their wives and daughters; for their guest they are ready to die, and to revenge to the end of the generation.  Revenge, among them, is sacred; plundering, glory; and they are often forced by necessity to brigandize.

[Footnote 16:  A species of drink used by the Tartars, produced by fermenting oats.]

Passing over the summit of Atala and Tkhezerouk, across the crests of Tourpi-Taou, in Kakhetia, beyond the river Alazan, they find employment at a very low price; occasionally remaining two or three days together without work, and then, at an agreement among themselves, they rush like famished wolves, by night, into the neighbouring villages, and, if they succeed, drive away the cattle, carry off the women, make prisoners, and will often perish in an unequal combat.  Their