We could soon ride the wildest Arab steeds, and gallop them without bridle or saddle along giddy rocks, and through the untrodden forest. None surpassed us in the use of the sabre, the poniard, or the pistol; few equalled Selim in handling the heavy Albanian musket; while Karolyi was matchless in the use of the Circassian sling; and in my hands, the bow was as unerring as the best Frankish rifle. I was older than my brave brothers by a few years, and thus became, in somewise, their preceptor. We were poor, but ardent and full of enthusiasm; we worked, begged, and bartered—we were never satisfied until each of us was possessor of a fleet and active barb, a bright steel coat of mail; a helmet of tempered iron, such as our warriors wear, and which covers all the face, except the eyes and nose; a curved sabre of keen Damascus steel; an Albanian musket; breast cases to receive our cartridges; a sharp Circassian dagger, and a Tartar bow: and when thus accoutred, our hearts would swell with fierce emotion, as we reined up our steeds upon the hills above Anapa, and shook our lances in defiance at the Russian steamers and frigates in the Euxine, while we longed for the time when the war-cry of Islam would ring among the hills, and we should behold the Sangiac Sheerif, the green banner of our confederated princes, with its three golden arrows and twelve white stars, unfurled against the barbarous Emperor Nicholas Romanoff.
We loved each other strongly, dearly, and devotedly, my two brothers and I, for we were alone in the world, the last of all our race. Being the eldest, they frequently importuned me to marry, that I might have children, and perpetuate our family; but I told them to remember that it was the custom of our people for a prince to wed the daughter of a prince; a noble to wed the daughter of a noble; a tocar to wed the daughter of a tocar; and the poor serf to wed the daughter of a serf. That I was neither prince nor tocar, noble nor serf, and could not marry, being too poor to wed one in the rank of my father, and too proud to stoop to a maiden beneath it. "Besides," I told them, "we have other duties to perform than espousing wives, which are ever a barrier to freedom of thought in peace, and bravery of action in war; for the blessed Prophet said, that wives and children were barriers to the performance of great deeds. God knoweth all things, and will direct the heart of Osman. I will not marry yet awhile, my brothers; for it is written that marriage disturbs a man from his duty—the wedded care for the things of this world, even as the unwedded care for those of heaven; and so we must watch and pray for our country, to defend her from the infidel Russians, who, like accursed locusts, blacken all the shores of the Kuban." Then my brothers Selim and Karolyi kissed me on both cheeks, applauding my resolution; and once more we shook our gauntletted hands in fierce menace towards the ramparts of Anapa.
But ere long there occurred circumstances which altered my resolution; for before the eyes of a beautiful woman the strongest heart is weak as water.
One evening I was riding on the mountain slopes that overlook the waters of the Euxine. The last rays of evening were lingering on their peaks, and shedding a golden tint upon the waves that rolled away towards the cliffs of the Crimea. At my feet lay Sundjik Bay, glittering in the blaze of light that steeped sea, sky, and shore. The snow-white walls of Anapa, which crown rocks a hundred feet in height, were gleaming in the yellow sunshine, and grimly the black iron cannon peered through the stone embrasures, or over the ramparts of smoothly-shorn grass.
The flat-capped Russian sentinels, muffled in their gray great-coats walked to and fro upon their posts; and each time they turned I saw their bayonets flash above the two square towers that guard the great arched entrance. Over all was the white flag with the Muscovite cross, but there was no wind to spread its folds upon the evening sky, and it hung about the staff listlessly and still; not a blade of grass stirred on the mighty plain of the Kuban, which spread far away towards the north, silent as a land of the dead. Under my iron helmet, grimly I surveyed Anapa and the rocks of Taman, and panted for the time when the standard of the twelve confederated princes of Circassia would be planted there, and when the black cross of the God-abandoned Russ would be torn down and steeped in the blood of its defenders.
My heart was full of fierce and fiery thoughts, when suddenly the cry of a woman, ringing upon the clear air of the hot summer eve, fell on my ear, and I reined up my horse—the same winch I have now on board with me—my noble Zuyi, to listen.
"Yani, Yani!" cried a despairing voice, which in our language means "mother, mother!"
I spurred Zupi over a hillock, and perceived four Russian soldiers of the Tenginski infantry, then garrisoning Anapa, dragging along a Circassian woman, who made no resistance, but cried piteously for mercy.
Uttering a shout of anger and defiance, I lowered my lance, and rushed upon them without a moment of hesitation.
They immediately relinquished their prey, who sank senseless on the ground, while they betook them to their muskets, crying,—