162 THE HORSE AND HIS RIDER. 



' Go along, silly boy !' he said. * You ride my 

 horse ! With the first three steps he would fiing you 

 off, and break your neck on the stones/ 



* Me !' screamed Asamat, in a fury, and the boy's 

 dagger clashed on the coat of mail. But a vigorous 

 hand shook him off, and dashed him with such violence 

 against the boarded wall that it rocked with the blow. 

 Here's a pretty piece of work ! thought I ; so I hur- 

 ried to the stall, bridled our horses, and led them to 

 the backdoor. In two minutes there was a tremen- 

 dous row in the house. What happened there was 

 briefly this : Asamat rushed in, with his beshmet torn, 

 crying out that Kasbitch wanted to murder him. All 

 present sprang up, seized their weapons, and the brawl 

 began. All were shouting, blows, and firing ; but Kas- 

 bitch was already in the saddle, and broke, like an in- 

 carnate fiend, through the throng, brandishing his 

 shashka. Petchorin wanted to see how it would end, 

 but he took my advice, and we rode straight home. 



L. And how did it fare with Kasbitch? 

 M. The usual luck of these fellows ; he got clear off 

 whether wounded or not, Heaven only knows ! They 

 have as many lives as cats, these robbers. I saw one 

 of them, for instance, in battle, pierced like a sieve 

 with bayonet holes, yet still laying about him with his 

 shashka. [The captain paused awhile, and then con- 



