by night, but with considerable loss.

"Away, brute!" cried Sultan Akhmet Khan to the soldier who had again
seized the bridle of his horse--"I am a Russian general."

"A Russian traitor!" roared a multitude of voices; "bring him to the
Captain: drag him to Derbend, to Colonel Verkhóffsky."

"'Tis only to hell I would go with such guides!" said Akhmet, with a
contemptuous smile, and making his horse rear, he turned him to the
right and left; then, with a blow of the nogaik,[29] he made him leap
into the air, and disappeared. The noúkers kept their eye on the
movements of their chief, and uttering their warcry, followed his steps,
and overthrowing several of the soldiers, cleared a way for themselves
into the road. After galloping off to a distance of scarce a hundred
paces, the Khan rode away at a slow walk, with an expression of the
greatest _sang-froid_, not deigning to look back, and coolly playing
with his bridle. The crowd of Tartars assembled round the blacksmith
attracted his attention. "What are you quarrelling about, friends?"
asked Akhmet Khan of the nearest, reining in his horse.

[29] The whip of a Kazak.

In sign of respect and reverence, they all applied their hands to their
foreheads when they saw the Khan. The timid or peaceably disposed among
them, dreading the consequences, either from the Russians or the Khan,
to which this rencontre might expose them, exhibited much discomfiture
at the question; but the idle, the ruffian, and the desperate--for all
beheld with hatred the Russian domination--crowded turbulently round him
with delight. They hurriedly told him what was the matter.