for the death of fathers and sons, carried away by me in this rash expedition—­’twould be to lose their confidence for ever.  Time will pass, tears will dry up; the thirst of vengeance will take place of grief for the dead; and then again Sultan Akhmet will be seen the prophet of plunder and of blood.  Then again the battle-signal shall echo through the mountains, and I shall once more lead flying bands of avengers into the Russian limits.  If I go now, in the moment of defeat, the Tchetchenetz will judge that Allah giveth and taketh away victory.  They may offend me by rash words, and with me an offence is ineffaceable; and the revenge of a personal offence would obstruct the road that leads me to the Russians.  Why, then, provoke a quarrel with a brave people—­and destroy the idol of glory on which they are wont to gaze with rapture?  Never does man appear so mean as in weakness, when every one can measure his strength with him fearlessly:  besides, you need a skilful leech, and nowhere will you find a better than at my house.  To-morrow we shall be at home; have patience until then.”

With a gesture of gratitude Ammalat Bek placed his hand upon his heart and forehead:  he perfectly felt the truth of the Khan’s words, but exhaustion for many hours had been overwhelming him.  Avoiding the villages, they passed the night among the rocks, eating a handful of millet boiled in honey, without the mountaineers seldom set out on a journey.  Crossing the Koi-Sou by the bridge near the Asheert, quitting its northern branch, and leaving behind them Andeh, and the country of the Boulinetzes of the Koi-Sou, and the naked chain of Salataou.  A rude path lay before them, winding among forests and cliffs terrible to body and soul; and they began to climb the last chain which separated them on the north from Khounzakh or Avar, the capital of the Khans.  The forest, and then the underwood, had gradually disappeared from the naked flint of the mountain, on which cloud and tempest could hardly wander.  To reach the summit, our travellers were compelled to ride alternately to the right and to the left, so precipitous was the ascent of the rocks.  The experienced steed of the Khan stepped cautiously and surely from stone to stone, feeling his way with his hoofs, and when they slipped, gliding on his haunches down the declivities:  while the ardent fiery horse of Ammalat, trained in the hills of Daghestan, fretted, curveted, and slipped.  Deprived of his customary grooming, he could not support a two days’ flight under the intense cold and burning sunshine of the mountains, travelling among sharp rocks, and nourished only by the scanty herbage of the crevices.  He snorted heavily as he climbed higher and higher; the sweat streamed from his poitrel; his large nostrils were dry and parched, and foam boiled from his bit.  “Allah bereket!” exclaimed Ammalat, as he reached the crest from which there opened before him a view of Avar:  but at the very moment his exhausted horse fell under him; the blood spouted from his open mouth, and his last breath burst the saddle-girth.