adorned by cottages, surrounded by orchards,farm-yards, paddocks, and granaries.
"See, Ina," exclaimed her brother, enthusiastically; "let not yourspirits sink with forebodings, for we have passed in safety through thatsavage glen: and now what a lovely scene has opened to our view! So mayit be with our country. We yet may see bright and glorious days shineon Circassia, when freed from the dark wing of the Russian eagle."
The country through which they were passing, had the appearance of amagnificent park, or the estate of some rich noble of Frangistan; thefields were separated by high well clipped hedge-rows, and irrigated bycanals filled from a stream, meandering through the centre. The hillsides were covered with flocks of sheep; and fine cattle fed in thefertile pastures.
Leaving the valley, the cavalcade mounted the sides of one of the hills,by which it is entirely encompassed, traversing the summit of a narrowridge, looking down on each side into a deep ravine. Wherever the eyecould reach, appeared a country impracticable to any foes, when guardedby even a handful of brave inhabitants.
The cavalcade did not keep in the same order as described in thecommencement of the journey; sometimes, the chieftain Arslan Gherreiwould ride to his daughter's side, and address words of affection andencouragement to her; then he would enter into converse with his son, onsubjects of deep interest and importance. But there was one who neverleft Ina's side. Each moment that Thaddeus passed in her company, hebecame more and more enchained, without being conscious of it.
As the mighty Elborous appeared in view, with numerous other wild andrugged mountains at its base, "Know you," said the Hadji to Selem, "thatthe brother of that traitor Besin Kaloret Khan has his dwelling amongyonder rugged mountains, though they prove not so wild and barren, as atthis distance they appear? He is rich in flocks, herds and noblehorses, and many fierce followers are at his beck. I think he willprove a dire foe to you and your's, if he discovers that his traitorbrother fell by your hand; or worse still, by that of your youthfulpage. But, Mashallah! fear him not. He knows himself in the wrong, andwill dread to take vengeance."
Ina turned pale, as she heard this account. "Does, indeed, thatdreadful Khan dwell so near us?" said she. "I always feared to look onhim: he seems so fierce, so cruel, so unlike our father or you. Oh,avoid him, for his presence can bring nothing but harm."
"Fear him not, fear him not, maiden," exclaimed the Hadji. "What harmcan he do? His followers cannot compete with us. Till he washes outthe stain of his brother's dishonour in the blood of our foes, he cannotagain appear in the company of the chiefs of Abasia."
"I fear not for myself," answered Ina; "but I fear him for the evil hemay work to my father and brother: I know that to meet him in open fightthey would have nought to dread; but he is subtle as well as fierce, andmay seek secret means to injure them."
"Do not let such thoughts alarm you for our father or for me, dear Ina,"said her brother. "The Khan could not harm us, if he wished."
"Mashallah! if he were as cunning as the fox," exclaimed the Hadji, "wewould rout him out of his den, should he attempt any revenge for thatyoung traitor's just punishment."
The travellers were now approaching the residence of the venerablePrince Aitek Tcherei, the kinsman of Arslan Gherrei, with whom Ina wasto remain during his and her brother's absence. The whole party, also,were invited to sojourn there that day, ere they proceeded to the campof the allied princes and chiefs on the Ubin.
The party were descending a hill bounding another beautiful and romanticvale, on the side of which stood the residence of the aged chief, andhad just arrived in sight of a grove of lofty trees surrounding thehouse, when being perceived from the watch-tower in the neighbourhood, aband of gaily caparisoned youths on horseback, galloped out to meet thechiefs, uttering loud shouts of welcome, and firing off their rifles andpistols as they came on at full speed. Halting at the moment theyarrived abreast of the leaders of the party, they respectfully salutedthem, exchanging greetings with their younger friends as they passed,and then joined the rear of the cortege.
Along avenue of fine trees led up to the gate of the house, where theaged Prince, clothed in a long robe and turban, (the garb of peace), wasstanding to receive them, attended by his squire, armed more for statethan protection, and by his dependants and household serfs, who hastenedto take the horses of the chieftains, as they dismounted.
Folding Arslan Gherrei in his arms, "My noble kinsman," he said,"welcome are you to my home, for gladly do my old eyes once more look onyou; and how did my heart beat with joy when I heard that you hadrecovered your long lost son. Allah is great, who has shielded him fromso many perils in the land of the Giaour, to restore him once more toyour bosom. Is yonder noble youth he? Worthy he seems to be aCircassian chief. Let me embrace him," he added, as Selem, dismountingfrom his horse, advanced towards the old man.
"Come hither, my son, and let your father's oldest friend embrace you.Ah! I see in his eye and bearing that he is worthy of you, Uzden. Andyour other child? your daughter? Come hither, Ina; let my old eyes gazeon thee, too. My own Zara will rejoice to see you. Go to her, Ina; shelongs to embrace you, but she fears to quit her anderoon before so manystrangers. Ah! my gallant friend, Hadji Guz Beg! rejoiced am I to seethe Lion of the Atteghei returned from his pilgrimage, to spread terroramong the hearts of the Urus. And you, Achmet Beg, and you, Alp, whowill one day be a hero like your father; and you, chieftains, welcomeall."
Thus he addressed them, as each chief advanced to pay his respects tothe old man. "My heart," exclaimed he, "has not beat so joyfully sincethe cursed Urus slew the last prop of my age, my only son. Chieftains,I have ordered a banquet to be prepared to do honour to your coming, andit will soon be the hour for feasting."
Saying which, the venerable noble led the way to a grove of lofty treesin the neighbourhood of the house, under which a fresh green arbour hadbeen erected by his retainers, forming a grateful shade from the yetburning rays of the sun. Divans and carpets had been spread under theleafy bower, the front of which opened on a gentle slope, falling to, agreen plot of turf, surrounded by groups of trees. Thither the chiefswere ushered, and when all were seated, according to their rank, theirvenerable host took his place among them.
Many of the neighbouring nobles had assembled to do honour to the guestsof their chief, their numerous attendants forming groups with thevillagers and retainers of the host collected before the arbour. TheDehli Khans, or young men, amusing themselves in the mean time, invarious athletic sports.
Troops of servants soon appeared hastening to the arbour, bearing tablesladen with various dishes of richly dressed meats and fruits, whichmight well vie in taste with the sumptuous fare of less primitivecountries. Bowls of mead and boza were handed round to the guests; foreven those professing the Mahomedan faith did not hesitate to drink ofthe former delicious beverage, nor were spirits and wine wanting, to addto the conviviality of those whose scruples did not prevent theirindulging in them.
Minstrels, also, came from far and near to add to the festivity of theoccasion; for what feast would be complete without the masters of song?The aged Hassein Shahin, the famed bard of the Atteghei, he who sang ofa hundred fights, which he had himself witnessed, and in some of whichhe had been engaged, now turned his lyre to a high and martial strain.All voices were silent, every ear intent to catch his words which wereas follows:
From Liberty's harp are the strains you now hear; Men of Atteghei rise at the call; Hark! hark! to its sounds, for the foemen are near, It summons us warriors all To fight for the land of our ancestors' graves, Who died that their children might never be slaves.
The Russ marches onward with chains in his hand, To bind our free arms will he try. His banner's dark eagle o'ershadows our land, But we've sworn or to conquer or die, For we fight o'er the sod of our ancestors' graves, Whose valiant hearts ne'er would have yielded to slaves.
'Tis Poland's enslaver with foul bloody hand, Remember her story of woe! H
er brave sons are captives, or fled their lov'd land, Beware, or her fate we may know! Let us swear on the earth of our forefathers' graves, That we ne'er will be conquered or yield to those slaves.
Remember we fight for our mountains so green, For our vales, for our streams' sparkling tide, For those fields which our father's for ages have been, And where, ever unconquer'd, they died. Then let not their bones be disturbed in their graves, By the tread of a Muscovite army of slaves.
See the glorious banner of freedom unfurl'd. It waves o'er our lov'd native land. Muster round it, and valiantly prove to the world, That _alone_ we are able to stand. As our fathers who lie in their warrior graves, Fighting died, that their children might never be
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