The Circassian Chief: A Romance of RussiaKingston, William Henry Giles
History
The Circassian Chief: A Romance of Russia
Kingston, William Henry Giles
Caucasus -- History -- Juvenile fiction
Here all the people of the tribe gathered round the travellers, telling
them that they had been already informed of their approach, and were
prepared to offer them assistance. Javis, in return, explained the
wishes of his friend and himself, and the necessity of proceeding
without delay. Several men at once volunteered to assist them in
crossing the river at an unguarded spot, and to be answerable for their
safety, on condition of their assuming the dress and character of their
own people, as they were in the custom of communicating with others of
their tribe in Moldavia. They also advised them to continue the same
disguise till they had arrived in the Turkish provinces, as numerous
tribes of their people were in the country, who would assist them. Such
a dress would, moreover, exempt them from the attack of the numerous
robbers who infested the land, but who would not deem such poor-looking
wayfarers worth pillaging.
To this proposition Ivan gladly assented; and, after a plentiful supply
of provisions had been placed before them, Javis set about arranging the
necessary dresses; the Zingani treating Ivan and his youthful companion
with the greatest respect.
While engaged in this employment, the brow of Javis grew more clouded
and uneasy than before. As he passed Ivan, he would turn a quick
uncertain glance towards him, his countenance assuming an expression as
if a sudden pang had tormented him, and then he would endeavour to look
calm and composed as before.
Ivan, overcome with the fatigue of his journey, gladly accepted the
offer made by the chief of the tribe to rest in his tent, where throwing
himself on a heap of skins, he was soon wrapt in deep sleep, it yet
wanting some time before it would be safe to venture across the Pruth.
The dark shades of evening were fast coming on, and the sky gave
threatening warnings of a rough tempestuous night, when Javis,
unperceived, as he thought, by any of the people, stole from the camp.
He looked tremblingly behind him, but saw no one following, and again
pursued his way. He hastened onwards at a fast rate, then stopped and
hesitated; fear and doubt were working in his breast. At last he
mustered all his courage, and again ran quickly on. His purpose he
scarce dared utter to himself. Could he, the hitherto brave, the true,
the most loved of all his tribe, be guilty of treachery?
The long-threatened storm now broke with sudden fury; the lightning
flashed brightly, and the wind loudly howled. Javis kept up his speed.
The Russian guard-house was in sight, when a flash brighter and more
dazzling than before darted from the clouds. For a moment his eyes were
blinded. He looked up, and fancied that a tall and majestic form rose
before him. The attitude of this phantom of his brain was threatening;
the countenance fierce and angry.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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