The travellers passed the night at this village, sleeping as usual in their carriage; and the next day, taking a loving leave of their friends, directed their course over the steppes into the Crimea.  Here they found themselves in the heart of the Tartar country, beyond the verge of civilized life.

The Tartar villages, says John Yeardley, are the meanest possible, consisting sometimes of mere holes dug in the earth, or huts standing a little above the ground.  The men wear wide drawers with the pink shirt over them; the women have a chemise reaching to the calf of the leg, dirty and coarse, an apron round the waist, sometimes so scanty or so ragged that it will not meet, and a handkerchief tied in a slovenly manner on the head.  In these three articles of dress they drive the horses and oxen; the sun burns them to a dark brown, almost black.  The children we saw were quite naked.  Various attempts have been made to civilize and instruct them, but without success.  One missionary pursued the work so far as to feed and clothe the children, and collect them for instruction, which they received for a while, but all at once and with one consent it was at an end.  When I see the Tartar galloping over the steppe as if riding on the wind, it constantly makes me think of the wild Arabs.  When we are anxious to find a well of water where we may take our meal, and when we see travellers assembled to water their cattle and flocks, and the camels running loose on the steppes—­which they do till autumn, when they are sought up for work,—­all reminds us of customs of the East.

This evening they halted at a Tartar village, where the occupant of the traktir, or house of entertainment, persuaded the driver to take out his horses for the night.  The conduct of this man and his companions was suspicious; they eagerly examined the mattresses of the travellers, which were of superior quality; and when William Rasche came to make the tea, which he did by the moonlight outside the hut, the boiling water which he poured in to rinse the teapot came out into the tumblers a white liquid; and after the tea was put in the innkeeper held up the pot against the moon, and looked curiously into it.  Instead of retiring early, as the Tartars always do, the men in the hut kept a watch upon the travellers; and the suspicions even of the driver were awakened, when one of them came to him, as he was lying by his horses, to borrow his knife.  His horses, however, were so weary, and he himself so unwilling to move, that the travelers contented themselves with harnessing the horses, and making ready to depart in case of necessity.  Soon after midnight, finding they were still watched by the Tartars, and apprehending that these waited only till they should all be asleep, to carry off their horses or to rob their persons, they decided to make the best of their way out of their hands.  The driver being slow to move, W.R. jumped into his place, seized the reins, and drove quickly off, thankful to have effected a safe escape.  It is very common for the Tartars to prowl about in the night, and steal the horses and waggons, of their more settled and thrifty neighbors.