up the mountain, and narrow paths led to these fortresses built by nature, and employed by the hill-robbers to defend their liberty, or secure their plunder.  All was still in the village and the surrounding hills; there was not a human being to be seen on the roads or streets; flocks of sheep were reposing in the shade of the cliffs; the buffaloes were crowded in the muddy swamps near the springs, with only their muzzles protruded from the marsh.  Nought save the hum of the insects—­nought save the monotonous chirp of the grasshoppers indicated life amid the breathless silence of the mountains; and Hadji Suleiman, stretched under the cupola, was intensely enjoying the stillness and repose of nature, so congenial to the lazy immobility of the Turkish character.  Indolently he turned his eyes, whose fire was extinguished, and which no longer reflected the light of the sun, and at length they fell upon two horsemen, slowly climbing the opposite side of the declivity.

“Nephtali!” cried our Moollah, turning towards a neighbouring sakla, at the gate of which stood a saddled horse.  And then a handsome Tchetchenetz, with short cut beard, and shaggy cap covering half his face, ran out into the street.  “I see two horsemen,” continued the Moollah; “they are riding round the village!”

“Most likely Jews or Armenians,” answered Nephtali.  “They do not choose to hire a guide, and will break their necks in the winding road.  The wild-goats, and our boldest riders, would not plunge into these recesses without precaution.”

“No, brother Nephtali; I have been twice to Mecca, and have seen plenty of Jews and Armenians every where.  But these riders look not like Hebrew chafferers, unless, indeed, they exchange steel for gold in the mountain road.  They have no bales of merchandise.  Look at them yourself from above; your eyes are surer than mine; mine have had their day, and done their work.  There was a time when I could count the buttons on a Russian soldier’s coat a verst off, and my rifle never missed an infidel; but now I could not distinguish a ram of my own afar.”

By this time Nephtali was at the side of the Moollah, and was examining the travellers with an eagle glance.

“The noonday is hot, and the road rugged,” said Suleiman; “invite the travellers to refresh themselves and their horses:  perhaps they have news:  besides, the Koran commands us to show hospitality.”

“With us in the mountains, and before the Koran, never did a stranger leave a village hungry or sad; never did he depart without tchourek,[36] without blessing, without a guide; but these people are suspicious:  why do they avoid honest men, and pass our village by by-roads, and with danger to their life?”

     [36] A kind of dried bread.

“It seems that they are your countrymen,” said Suleiman, shading his eyes with his hand:  “their dress is Tchetchna.  Perhaps they are returning from a plundering exhibition, to which your father went with a hundred of his neighbours; or perhaps they are brothers, going to revenge blood for blood.”