The astonishment of the Circassians to see women riding in the European fashion was most amusing. Native women, when they travel, ride like men. It was evidently a deep mystery to them how we continued to keep on. They generally pulled up and watched us as long as we remained in sight, expecting, probably hoping, we should ere long fall off. One man was so absorbed in wonder that he lost his seat. His horse made a sudden jump, and the rider fell so heavily, and with such a crash, that we thought he must be killed. However, in a few seconds, to our great relief, he jumped up, looking very crest-fallen (for such an accident is accounted exceedingly disgraceful), and climbed into his saddle amidst the jeers and laughter of his companions. It may easily be supposed how delightful and interesting we found the ride. But pleasures must come to an end; days are short in these parts; evening was coming on, and it would be risking too much to let darkness find us on such dangerous ground. Unwillingly, therefore, we had to content ourselves with longing glances at the wild ravines that branched upwards in all directions. The solitude, the gloom, the inexpressible grandeur of the dark frowning rocks, the very danger, gave an additional charm, and, like true women, we longed the more to penetrate into the forbidden land. Fortunately we were all too much accustomed to mountain travelling to feel nervous when traversing narrow and lofty ledges, for it was decided that it would be more prudent to avoid the pass by which we had entered, and so regain the town by a different route. Our guide, therefore, led us up the face of a precipice by a pathway that looked only fit for goats, but the clever little horses made their way with a steadiness and skill beyond praise, and of which all the cavalcade could not boast, for at one or two uncommonly skeary places poor Domenico lost heart and dismounted, preferring to trust to his own powers of climbing, a very unwise proceeding on his part, for a horse will often make his way safely where a man's nerve may completely fail him. We found it better not to look down too much. When we were occasionally able to do so, the savage wildness of the scene was inexpressibly grand, especially at one point where, on turning sharply round the shoulder of an almost perpendicular rock, we found ourselves hanging as it were over a chasm black as night itself, and where, at an immense depth beneath, we could hear the roar and chafing of waters, though the torrent itself was invisible in the darkness of the depth below.