54 ODESSA AND MISKITCHEE. 



and never let go my gun. Gradually he seemed 

 to become better tempered, and when we got within 

 half a mile of Miskitchee he turned and spoke to me, 

 to assure me that further than that nothing would 

 induce him to drive me. 



Satisfied now that I could get home in safety, 

 I got down, taking a couple of hares and some birds 

 with me, leaving the rest for the Tartar, and walked 

 off to Miskitchee, thankful to have got off so well. On 

 my way back I thought I had probably been over 

 suspicious, and made a fool of myself. However, on 

 my arrival, I found I had been searched for all day, 

 and great anxiety had been felt for me. It seems 

 my butcher was of more professions than one, being 

 indeed the most notorious horse- stealer on these 

 steppes. He had camped near the village the night 

 before, and made several inquiries about me, having 

 seen me returning from shooting that night. He 

 had also expressed great admiration for my gun, a 

 rather handsome breech-loader. This, together with 

 the fact that the butcher, one of my host's best 

 horses, and myself had all disappeared simultane- 

 ously next morning, accounted for the anxiety fell",, 

 as well as for the butcher's objection to return to 

 the village that night. 



Such was one of the memories Miskitchee 

 called up in my mind. But on this my last visit 

 I saw little to remind me of my adventure. The 

 Armenian had, I believe, gone, and the whole 



