On the afternoon of the first day all our different columns met at a village called Sifontai, east of the Hun river, and what a picturesque gathering that was! When I attempt to catalogue the different forces which composed it I feel inclined, like Homer, to call upon the daughters of Jove to assist me, for of myself I am not able to do justice to so vast a subject. It was one of the most composite forces that ever met together in Asia, a force worthy of "the mighty behemoth of Muscovy, the potentate who counts three hundred languages around the footsteps of his throne." It comprised Buriats, Tunguses, Baskirs, Kirghises, mountaineers from Daghestan, Tartars, Cossacks of Orenburg, Cossacks from the Don, children of the men who had won such victories in Italy under SuwarofT, who had captured Napoleon at Malo- Yaroslavetz, who had chased Jerome Bonaparte from his throne, who had pitched their tents in the Champs-Elysees, Buriats, whose race has produced " the most terrible phenomena by which humanity has ever been scourged... the Mongol Genghis Khan," descendants of the men who had followed the Scourge of God, flat-nosed Kalmuks whose very name recalls that great flight to China which De Quincey has immortalised, descendants of the Zaporogian Cossacks, that semi-religious order of bloodthirsty celibates who made their lair in the islands of the lower Dneiper. Mishchenko's force seemed to contain within it all the elements of a Yellow Peril, combined with a faint hint of a Moslem Peril.
Their green banners embroidered with red inscriptions in Arabic — all texts from the Koran — the Caucasians rode past on their graceful Arab steeds. Among them was a representative of every race and language in the Caucasus. They were those Mohammedan mountaineers who held Russia at bay for a century. All of them were splendid at single combat, and bore swords of the best tempered steel. The young men were often singularly handsome, with figures like Greek statues, oval heads, bold noble profiles, large dark eyes, delicately chiselled lips, and most murderous dispositions. It is impossible for me to give an idea of the proud dignity of their bearing, the grace of their movements and the fire of their look. They had got amongst them an extraordinary and valuable collection of fine Circassian swords and daggers, with damascened blades, often inlaid with gold, and always channelled so as to let the blood spurt out. Latin invocations to the Blessed Virgin inlaid in some of the blades seemed to indicate that they had changed hands as often as the poniard to which Lermontov devotes one of his poems. The sheaths of their numerous daggers terminated in a metal drop suggestive of blood. Their carabines they carried in covers of sheepskin with the hair outside, and they had also on their stirrups sheepskin covers, which are admirable protections against the cold. Later on I regretted exceedingly not having got such stirrup-covers myself.
The same thing always happened when a Caucasian mounted his horse. One caught sight of him poised for a moment on one stirrup while the horse reared and pranced; then there was a flop of variegated
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petticoats, a jingle of spurs, a rattle of weapons, and the rider had tumbled into the saddle and was telling his still prancing steed, in tones with more of admiration in them than of anger, that he was naughty, very naughty.
None of those Caucasians spoke any Russian, a fact which detracted seriously from their value as scouts. To make matters worse, there were in our little force of Caucasians about fifteen completely different languages, and it was very seldom that a man spoke more than two or three of those languages at most. The Russians explained this diversity of tongues by saying that every invader of Europe had passed through the Caucasus, leaving amid these mountains a handful of his people who immediately proceeded to form a new community, until, finally, that country became the ethnological museum it is to-day.
However they may rank as regular soldiers, there can be no doubt that in private life these Mohammedans are fierce. The first day I spent with them I saw one man draw his sword on another over some dispute about fodder. An officer, who was standing by, wearily told him to put up his weapon. " Reserve it for the Japanese," he said, and then he resumed an interrupted conversation about the latest opera at Bayreuth.