if he had been aware that he was going to fall, fired rapidly, and hitting the rouble with his ball, hurled it far among the people.  The crowd shouted with delight—­“Igeed, igeed! (bravo!) Alla valla-ha!” But Ammalat Bek, modestly retiring, dismounted from his steed, and throwing the reins to his djilladar, (groom,) ordered him immediately to have the horse shod.  The race and the shooting was continued.

     [19] 3500 English feet—­three quarters of a mile.

At this moment there rode up to Ammalat his emdjek,[20] Saphir-Ali, the son of one of the poor beks of Bouinaki, a young man of an agreeable exterior, and simple, cheerful character.  He had grown up with Ammalat, and therefore treated him with great familiarity.  He leaped from his horse, and nodding his head, exclaimed—­“Nouker Memet Rasoul has knocked up the old cropped[21] stallion, in trying to leap him over a ditch seven paces wide.”  “And did he leap it?” cried Ammalat impatiently.  “Bring him instantly to me!” He went to meet the horse—­and without putting his foot in the stirrup, leaped into the saddle, and galloped to the bed of a mountain-torrent.  As he galloped, he pressed the horse with his knee, but the wearied animal, not trusting to his strength, bolted aside on the very brink, and Ammalat was obliged to make another turn.  The second time, the steed, stimulated by the whip, reared up on his hind-legs in order to leap the ditch, but he hesitated, grew restive, and resisted with his fore-feet.  Ammalat grew angry.  In vain did Saphir-Ali entreat him not to force the horse, which had lost in many a combat and journey the elasticity of his limbs.  Ammalat would not listen to any thing; but urging him with a cry, and striking him with his drawn sabre for the third time, he galloped him at the ravine; and when, for the third time, the old horse stopped short in his stride, not daring to leap, he struck him so violently on the head with the hilt of his sabre, that he fell lifeless on the earth.

[20] Foster-brother; from the word “emdjek”—­suckling.  Among the tribes of the Caucasus, this relationship is held more sacred than that of nature.  Every man would willingly die for his emdjek.

     [21] This is a celebrated race of Persian horses, called Teke.

“This is the reward of faithful service!” said Saphir-Ali, compassionately, as he gazed on the lifeless steed.

“This is the reward of disobedience!” replied Ammalat, with flashing eyes.

Seeing the anger of the Bek, all were silent.  The horsemen, however, continued their djigitering.

And suddenly was heard the thunder of Russian drums, and the bayonets of Russian soldiers glittered as they wound over the hill.  It was a company of the Kourinsky regiment of infantry, sent from a detachment which had been dispatched to Akoush, then in a state of revolt, under Sheikh Ali Khan, the banished chief of Derbend.  This company had been protecting a convoy of supplies from Derbend, whither it was returning by the mountain road.  The commander of the company, Captain -----, and one officer with him, rode in front.  Before they had reached the race-course, the retreat was beaten, and the company halted, throwing aside their havresacks and piling their muskets, but without lighting a fire.