ran away in terror, leaving two hundred scythes in the field, which he
seized. But a great calamity befel this Lion. He had an only son. When he
first led the boy to the wars, he charged him never to shrink from the
enemy, but to cut his way through the very midst. One day Guz Beg had
ridden into the thick of the Russian soldiers, when suddenly a ball
pierced his horse, and he was thrown headlong on the ground. There lay
the Lion among the hunters. In another moment he would have been killed,
when suddenly a youthful warrior flew to his rescue;--it was his own son.
But what could _one_ do among so _many_! A troop of Circassian horse
rushed to the spot, and bore away Guz Beg; but they were too late to save
his son. They bore away the _body_ only of the brave boy. Guz Beg was
deeply grieved; but he continued still to fight for his country.

See those black heaps of ashes. In that spot there once lived a prince
named Zefri Bey, with his four hundred servants; but his dwellings were
burned to the ground by the Russians. That prince fled to Turkey to plead
for help. What would have become of his wife, and little girls, if a kind
friend had not taken them under his care? This friend was hump-backed,
but very brave. Some English travellers went to visit him, and were
received in the guest-house and regaled with a supper of many tables.
Next day the little girls came to the guest-house and kissed their hands.
The daughter of the hump-backed man accompanied them. The children were
delighted with some toys the traveller gave them, and the kind young lady
accepted needles and scissors. But where was the wife of Zefri Bey? A
servant was sent to inquire after her, and found her in rags, lying on a
mat, without even a counterpane, and weeping bitterly. Had no one given
her clothes, and coverings? Yes, but she gave everything away, for she
had been used, as a princess, to make presents, and now she cared for
nothing. Such are the miseries which the Russians bring upon Circassia.