"Dead at Mikhailov for the glory of Russia!" When I recovered, I found myself lying on the hillside, many yards from the fort, the site of which resembled the crater of the volcano; for it seemed as if the powder had rent, torn, and blackened the bosom of the earth, in its efforts to efface the fort for ever. The free soft wind of the Caucasus was passing over the ruins; above me the sky was bright, and blue, and sunny; the birds were twittering among the mangled bodies of the slain; and about those ghastly heaps, or between their piles of arms and limbered field-pieces, the Russian soldiers (whom the flight of our people had left in possession of the locality) were laughing and singing, as they drained their canteens of sour quass, and prepared to cook their breakfasts, and to bury the dead. Around us, the scenery was beautiful; there were summer woods in all their heavy foliage; the terraced vineyards of lighter green, screened by the dense and wiry pine; little cottages and pretty mosques, with gilded minars shining in the sun; bright streams dancing down the rocks; the sea, blue as the sky and rippling gently in the wind; while in the back-ground of all, rose hills piled up on hills, until their steeps reached Heaven, and every peak was capped with pure white snow, or tipped by a golden gleam. Close by me a group of Russian officers were seated around one, who, by his dark green uniform, his heavy silver epaulettes and jack-boots; his varnished leather helmet surmounted by an eagle; his enormous mustache and cruel expression of eye, I knew to be Ivan Carlovitch; and I lay still and feigning death, believing that my fate would be sealed, if life was discovered in me. They were loud in their praises of the Circassian leader--myself--and expressed a great desire to capture me; others added their less friendly hopes that I had perished in the explosion. "It is fortunate, however," said Carlovitch, "that we have taken his two brothers, Selim and Karolyi; they, at least, have a long march before them towards the north; and, believe me, that among the snows there, with a chain to drag, and the occasional prick of a Cossack lance in the rear, their hot rebellious blood will soon be cooled in Siberia, and rendered mild as commissariat quass." Under their shaggy beards the officers laughed at this poor joke, which made my heart almost die within me, for it acquainted me, that my two brothers, Selim and Karolyi, were captives, and that Siberia would be their doom. A soldier now approached to announce that the body of Archipp Ossepoff had been found, shattered, scorched, and sorely mangled, but still recognisable by the medals which he had won in the Polish war. "Then let him be buried apart from all the rest," said Carlovitch, "with all honour, and let a cross mark the spot; but first, let us put all these fellows who are lying about here under ground, before the sun attains its noon-day heat."