years' pay in arrear. One strived with listening ear to catch some
tidings of that forest world within--some stirring of beasts, some
night-bird's scream, but all was quite hushed, except the voice of
the cicalas that peopled every bough, and filled the depths of the
forest through and through, with one same hum everlasting--more
stifling than very silence.

At first our way was in darkness, but after a while the moon got
up, and touched the glittering arms and tawny faces of our men with
light so pale and mystic, that the watchful Tatar felt bound to
look out for demons, and take proper means for keeping them off:
forthwith he determined that the duty of frightening away our
ghostly enemies (like every other troublesome work) should fall
upon the poor Suridgees, who accordingly lifted up their voices,
and burst upon the dreadful stillness of the forest with shrieks
and dismal howls. These precautions were kept up incessantly, and
were followed by the most complete success, for not one demon came
near us.

Long before midnight we reached the hamlet in which we were to rest
for the night; it was made up of about a dozen clay huts, standing
upon a small tract of ground hardly won from the forest. The
peasants that lived there spoke a Slavonic dialect, and Mysseri's
knowledge of the Russian tongue enabled him to talk with them
freely. We took up our quarters in a square room with white walls
and an earthen floor, quite bare of furniture, and utterly void of
women. They told us, however, that these Servian villagers lived
in happy abundance, but that they were careful to conceal their
riches, as well as their wives.