The story goes that a patrol of ten Cossacks lately came upon a German squadron who, to avoid a fight at close quarters, opened fire. The Russian horsemen swung round under their horses; the Germans mounted and set forth to capture what they believed to be runaway horses. When they came close up the Cossacks reappeared in the saddle, and attacking them with awful fury, cut them to pieces! The Cossacks have retained their old, picturesque uniform—not for them the sober khaki—and an action in which they engage recalls the verse of Robert Burns: “The trumpets sound, the banners fly, The glittering spears are rankêd ready, The shouts o’ war are heard afar, The battle closes thick and bloody.” The Cossack trooper has a great deal of that simple, resourceful cunning which is so important an asset to all sportsmen and fighting men. This was shown in the present war by the adventure of one such brave horseman called Polkovnikoff, who was taken prisoner by the Austrians. His captors treated Polkovnikoff kindly, and asked him many questions concerning his famous corps. “How do you manage to unsaddle just in front of the enemy’s entrenchments, and attack them on foot? Is not your horse a drag upon you?” they asked. Polkovnikoff volunteered to show how it was done, so they lent him a fine horse, belonging to an officer, to enable him to make an exhibition of his skill. Conscientiously and artistically he went through some vaulting exercises. Then, in order to put the finishing touch to one of his feats, he went the furthest possible distance from the assembled company, and, before they realised what was happening, he had put spurs to the horse and was galloping madly away! This delightful little sketch of a Cossack officer will show you how fortunate these Russian cavalrymen are in their leaders. It was written by a British war correspondent on his way to the front. “At Pavlodar a Cossack officer came on board, who will ever stand out in our memory as a great little man. He was clean-shaven, fat, and jolly-looking. Within two hours he had the reservists under his thumb to such an extent that had they been asked to storm, unarmed as they were, a German position, they would have gone without hesitation! His treatment was paternal, almost to the extent of the schoolroom. He read to them, and he told them funny little stories. Then he made them sing choruses, and wound up by warning them that upon their arrival at the great concentration camp of Omsk they must remember to treat all strangers with courtesy.”