[16] A kind of rude cart with two wheels.

“He comes, he comes!” was murmured through the crowd; all was in motion.  The horsemen, who till now had been chattering with their acquaintance on foot, or disorderedly riding about the meadow, now leaped upon their steeds, and dashed forward to meet the cavalcade which was descending to the plain:  it was Ammalat Bek, the nephew of the Shamkhal[17] of Tarki, with his suite.  He was habited in a black Persian cloak, edged with gold-lace, the hanging sleeves thrown back over his shoulders.  A Turkish shawl was wound round his arkhaloukh, which was made of flowered silk.  Red shalwars were lost in his yellow high-heeled riding-boots.  His gun, dagger, and pistol, glittered with gold and silver arabesque work.  The hilt of his sabre was enriched with gems.  The Prince of Tarki was a tall, well-made youth, of frank countenance; black curls streamed behind his ears from under his cap—­a slight mustache shaded his upper lip—­his eyes glittered with a proud courtesy.  He rode a bright bay steed, which fretted under his hand like a whirlwind.  Contrary to custom, the horse’s caparison was not the round Persian housing, embroidered all over with silk, but the light Circassian saddle, ornamented with silver on a black ground; and the stirrups were of the black steel of Kharaman, inlaid with gold.  Twenty noukers[18] on spirited horses, and dressed in cloaks glittering with lace, their caps cocked jauntily, and leaning affectedly on one side, pranced and sidled after him.  The people respectfully stood up before their Bek, and bowed, pressing their right hand upon their right knee.  A murmur of whispered approbation followed the young chief as he passed among the women.  Arrived at the southern extremity of the ground, Ammalat stopped.  The chief people, the old men leaning upon their sticks, and the elders of Bouinaki, stood round in a circle to catch a kind word from the Bek; but Ammalat did not pay them any particular attention, and with cold politeness replied in monosyllables to the flatteries and obeisances of his inferiors.  He waved his hand; this was the signal to commence the race.

[17] The first Shamkhals were the kinsmen and representatives of the Khalifs of Damascus:  the last Shamkhal died on his return from Russia, and with him finished this useless rank.  His son, Suleiman Pacha, possessed his property as a private individual.

     [18] The attendants of a Tartar noble, equivalent to the
     “henchman” of the ancient Highlanders.  The nouker waits behind
     his lord at table, cuts up and presents the food.