Like most mountaineers, the Circassians are excellent marksmen. They fire very quickly, so much so that they scarcely appear to take aim. On horseback they are equally at home, and load and fire with the greatest rapidity when at full gallop. War with them makes the delight as well as the occupation of their lives. They despise and avoid every sort of domestic and agricultural employment, and consider even hunting, unless in pursuit of some dangerous animal, beneath manly dignity.
To make the boys hardy and independent, as soon as they are old enough to sit on horseback they are sent to some friend’s house, in order to be completely removed from the enervating influence of home. Here they remain several years, only occasionally visiting their parents. During this period they are taught warlike exercises, and are encouraged to encounter every description of danger and fatigue. Often are these hardy lads sent into the mountains during the severest winter weather to pass their days in the saddle, their only shelter at night a cave or an overhanging rock, their only food the roots of grasses and herbs.
No wonder that the Russians find it hard to subdue men who not only from their earliest youth have been thus inured to hardship, hunger, and thirst, but are also entrenched amidst the wildest of mountain fastnesses—fastnesses that can only be reached by many days’ journey through forests and over morasses, where vegetation grows with such rank luxuriance that few would encounter willingly the dangerous miasma that reigns there nearly all the year.
Besides weaving woollen stuffs for clothing, the women of Abasia and Georgia make very pretty striped shawls and rugs from the long hair of the Circassian goat. They also excel in dyes, the colours mostly used, red and dark blue, being exceedingly fine in shade. The red is clear and brilliant, and the blue is quite free from the black dingy hue of the cloth worn by the Fellah women in Egypt, but is like a dark shade of the bright “Impératrice” blue. They also make the crimson boots or slippers that are worn alike by both sexes. The manufacture is very simple: the skins are scraped, tanned, and then dyed. The boots are cut out in a single piece and sewn up in front, the seam being lined with a narrow strip of leather. They are then thoroughly soaked in a mixture of resinous gum and water, which makes them nearly waterproof, and the owner should wear them thus wet for a few hours. The process is not very agreeable, but has its reward, inasmuch as the boots then take the exact shape of the feet, and fit with the pliability and comfort of a glove.
The women have besides a very ingenious way of carving beads. A long piece of wood, dyed red or black, is pierced lengthways by a heated wire. It is shaped either into an octagon, or is smoothed round. Then, with a knife and heated needles, it is cut and engraved into various patterns. Considerable taste is often shown in the designs, many of them being remarkably intricate and pretty. When the wand is sufficiently decorated, the beads are sliced off the size required. Beyond these primitive ornaments, we could not hear of any other articles de luxe being manufactured in Abasia.
In Georgia there are native jewellers, who make both gold and silver ornaments, and we saw some bracelets and necklaces made of gold that seemed very pure. The designs were also good, but the workmanship was coarse and ill-finished, and far inferior to the jewellery both of Persia and India.
But now the day had come when we must leave this fairy-like Eastern land—this earthly Paradise, where war, suffering, and trouble have taken such deep root. Perhaps, were it happy, peaceful, and prosperous, one would care for it less, for prosperity and riches have little need of sympathy, and can always ensure plenty of friends, whereas a poor people and a distracted country are thankful to accept all the friendship that may be bestowed upon them.
It may appear like exaggeration to say what real pain also it was to part from such newly-made friends, but we must have had very cold hearts not to have been touched by the great, unmerited kindness we had received. So now we must say good-bye to the joyous rides, to the merry evenings, that kindly intercourse has made so pleasant, and can only look forward, in exchange, to many a rough day and night on the stormy waves of the Black Sea.
As usual in this world, past pleasures must be paid for by some pain, and our visit here has been both so charming and so interesting, that we have been beguiled into making a stay somewhat longer than warranted by strict prudence.
Autumn brings many a storm to this easily-excited sea, and we shall be fortunate if we get back to the Bosphorus, or Sevastopol, without a “streak,” as it is called, of bad weather. At present, however, all looks fair and sunny, the wind is favourable, to-night therefore we leave. Our friends accompanied us to the shore, and the last cordial hand-shake was given.