As the distance increased between us and the Russian camp my brothers looked with longing eyes towards our native hills, between whose misty peaks a flood of golden light was falling on the waving woods and on the rolling sea; and now they began to whisper and exchange glances of intelligence. Their minds were full of the pledge we had lately made to ourselves, that we would fly the hated yoke of Russia on the first opportunity; but this was no easy task, believe me, watched as we were by our own suspicious soldiers. At this time my whole soul was full of Basilia, and in the hope of freeing, of winning, and of loving her, even Circassia and her wrongs were forgotten for a time--God of the Prophet, but only for a time! By a telescope I could see afar off the wild woods in which I had wandered when a boy, and the familiar mountain peaks up which I had clambered when fighting with the Muscovite riflemen, or hunting the boar and jerboa. I could see the bright gleam of steel and the flashing of chain armour between the shady oaks; for there armed bands were hovering, and there the Tartar bow, the Albanian gun, the Circassian lance, and the crooked sabre, awaited the Muscovite invader; and there the holy banner of the twelve stars waved above the tent of the glorious Schamyl. Watched as we were by the very men we led, flight, as I have said, was hopeless; but then I had no thought of flight even when within a cannon-shot of armed Circassian bands which we could see with their camels laden with women, children, and household goods, clambering up the hills to avoid the Kalmuck scouts and Cossack foragers. As the night darkened we saw lurid flames shooting up between the mountain clefts; and while our fierce hussars muttered in guttural Russ and laughed under their matted beards, the hearts of my brothers and myself grew sad, for we knew that the Tchernemorski lances were spreading woe and desolation in the homes of our people. We searched every little bay, inlet, and river as we passed along the beautiful coast from Anapa to Soudjack Kaleh, a fortress which was then half in ruins, as General Williamoff had left it after storming its defences at the head of fifteen thousand men. It seemed now so lonely and so silent that no one could imagine the roar of war had once awoke its echoes, for the flowers of the arbutus, the rhododendron, and many other plants, most of them aromatic, filled the air with perfume as they grew in luxuriance on its battered walls, or twining round the old cannon's mouth as it lay half sunk among the stones and grass, or wreathing the bare skulls and white ribs of the dead on whose unburied bones, bleached by the sunshine and the storm, devouring dogs and mountain wolves had battened.