THE HORSE AND HIS RIDER. 165 



make good way. I warrant he thought of his Karagos 

 at that moment. 



Looking round at Petchorin, I saw him present his 

 rifle while galloping at full speed. " No firing !" I 

 shouted to him ; " reserve your charge, we will catch 

 him yet." But such is youth ; it never gives fire at 

 the right moment. The shot went off whilst I was 

 speaking, and the ball struck the horse in the hind 

 leg ; it still kept on for a few paces, stumbled, and 

 fell on its knees. Kasbitch was instantly on his feet, 

 and now we saw that he had a female closely muffled 

 up in his grasp. It was Bela poor Bela ! He 

 shouted something to us in his own language, and 

 raised his dagger to strike. There was no time to be 

 lost, I fired almost at random, and thought for certain 

 I had hit him in the shoulder, for his arm instantly 

 fell. When the smoke had cleared away, there lay 

 the wounded horse on the ground, and Bela beside it ; 

 but Kasbitch, throwing away his rifle among the 

 bushes, clambered up the rocks like a cat. What 

 would I not have given to bring him down thence with 

 a ball ! but both our pieces were discharged. We 

 sprang from our horses and rushed to Bela. Poor 

 creature, she lay motionless, with the blood gushing 

 from her wound. What a miscreant ! Had he even 

 stabbed her to the heart at least it would have been 

 all over at once but in the back ! it was a genuine 

 robber's stroke. She was insensible : we tore up her 



