In the autumn of the year 1819, the Kabardinetzes and Tchetchenetzes, encouraged by the absence of the commander-in-chief, assembled to the number of 1500 men to make an attack upon one of the villages beyond the Terek, to seize it, carry off prisoners, and take the droves of horses.  The leader of the Kabardinetzes was the Prince (Kniazek) Djenboulat.  Ammalat Bek, who had arrived with a letter from Sultan Akhmet Khan, was received with delight.  They did not, indeed, assign him the command of any division; but this arose from the circumstance that with them there is no order of battle or gradation of command; an active horse and individual courage secures the most distinguished place in action.  At first they deliberate how best to begin the attack—­how to repel the enemy; but afterwards they pay no attention to plan or order, and chance decides the affair.  Having sent messengers to summon the neighbouring Ouzdens, Djemboulat fixed on a place of assembling; and immediately, on a signal agreed on, from every height spread the cry, “Gharai, gharai!” (alarm,) and in one hour the Tchetchenetzes and Kabardinetzes were assembling from all sides.  To avoid treason, no one but the leader knew where the night-camp was to be, from which they where to cross the river.  They were divided into small bands, and were to go by almost invisible paths to the peaceful village, where they were to conceal themselves till night.  By twilight, all the divisions were already mustered.  As they arrived, they were received by their countrymen with frank embraces; but Djemboulat, not trusting to this, guarded the village with sentinels, and proclaimed to the inhabitants, that whoever attempted to desert to the Russians should be cut in pieces.  The greater part of the Ouzdens took up their quarters in the saklas of their kounaks or relations; but Djemboulat and Ammalat, with the best of the cavaliers, slept in the open air round a fire, when they had refreshed their jaded horses.  Djemboulat, wrapped in his bourka, was considering, with folded arms, the plan of the expedition; but the thoughts of Ammalat were far from the battle-field:  they were flying, eagle-winged, to the mountains of Avar, and bitterly, bitterly did he feel his separation.  The sound of an instrument, the mountain balalaika, (kanous,) accompanying a slow air, recalled him from his reverie, and a Kabardinetz sung an ancient song.

  “On Kazbek the clouds are meeting,
    like the mountain eagle-flock;
    up to them, along the rock,
  Dash the wild Ouzdens retreating;
  Onward faster, faster fleeting,
    Routed by the Russian brood. 
    Foameth all their track with blood.”

  “Fast behind the regiments yelling,
    Lance and bayonet raging hot,
    And the seed of death their shot. 
  On the mail the sabre dwelling
  Gallop, steed! for far thy dwelling—­
    See! they fall—­but distant still
    Is the forest of the hill!”