The Circassian Chief: A Romance of Russia — John Shaqi
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
Poor Karl spent the long day in great tribulation, walking to and fro in
front of the inn, inquiring of everybody who arrived from the direction
of St. Petersburg, if they had overtaken his master and fellow
traveller; but obtaining no intelligence, he proceeded along the road
for some miles in the hope of meeting them; again unsuccessful, he
returned in case they should have passed by some other way. Towards
evening, when he perceived the lost cavaliers approaching, his joy knew
no bounds.
Running to meet them, and ere they had time to dismount, he seized their
hands and covered them with kisses. He gave their horses in charge to
the ostler, and conducted them to their room, where they were glad to
rest, after the excitement and fatigues of the preceding day.
Their arrival had been observed by others with equal satisfaction to
that felt by honest Karl, though arising from very dissimilar motives.
Groff and his companion concealed within a doorway, watched them as they
dismounted, and being fully satisfied of their identity, both from
Karl's description, and their own recollection of the wild horsemen, by
whom they had been felled in the forest, they immediately mounted their
horses to convey their information to the Count.
Ivan felt but little inconvenience from his wound; the aged Hagar having
treated it so efficaciously. He was, therefore, enabled to continue on
the journey to Moscow, early the next morning; notwithstanding the
numerous eloquent reasons urged by their considerate landlord, to
persuade them to delay it.
They crossed the magnificent Volga, by a bridge of boats. This mighty
current rushing onward in its course, divides Europe from Asia; it is
navigable well nigh to its very source--a distance of four thousand
miles; and after bathing the walls of Astracan, finishes its career in
the far distant Caspian. Its banks are peopled by the warlike tribes of
Cossacks, who so unrelentingly harassed the skirts of the French army,
during their disastrous retreat from Russia. On its noble waters were
being transported rich cargoes of grain, the produce of its fertile
banks, in boats of various sizes, rigged with a single but lofty mast,
supporting an immense sail, and a long rudder, projecting far beyond the
stern, which is admirably adapted to guide them, when passing the
rapids.
The villages through which the travellers' route lay, were forlorn and
miserable; being generally the property of the Seigneurs, and occupied
by their serfs. They consisted of a single long street, lined on either
side with cottages built of rough logs: those of the more affluent being
formed of the same materials, hewn and squared into more regular shape.
Their gable ends projecting far into the street, discovered occasionally
patches of rude carving; small holes perforated in the walls serving as
windows.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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