A little spring gushed out by the road: it was walled in with stones. There he stopped, and dropped Kostuilin.
"Let me rest a little," says he, "and get a drink. We will eat our cakes. It can't be very far now."
He had just stretched himself out to drink, when the sound of hoofs was heard behind them. Again they hid in the bushes at the right under the crest, and crouched down.
They heard Tatar voices. The Tatars stopped at the very spot where they had turned in from the road. After discussing a while, they seemed to be setting dogs on the scent.
The refugees hear the sound of a crashing through the bushes: a strange dog comes directly to them. He stops and barks.
The Tatars followed on their track. They are also strangers.
They seized them, bound them, lifted them on horses, and carried them off.
After they had ridden three versts, Abdul, with two Tatars, met them. He said something to their new captors. They were transferred to Abdul's horses, and were brought back to the aul.
Abdul was no longer grinning, and he said not a word to them.
They reached the village at daybreak; the prisoners were left in the street. The children gathered around them, tormenting them with stones and whips, and howling.