THE START FROM MO SCO IK &i 



we were only beginning to make, and whose appear- 

 ance and manner of life were, as yet, matters of 

 curiosity. 



The forests through which our road led were in 

 their happiest midsummer mood as to vegetation, and 

 the day being sultry, threatening thunder-storms, their 

 savagest as to flies. My companion's horse, who was 

 a tough old charger, obtained from a Cossack officer, 

 held his own stolidly among the myriads of hungry flies, 

 of many sizes and varieties, that assailed us in the 

 patches of primeval forest. 



But I early learned that, among his other eccentrici- 

 ties of character, Texas considered the attack of even 

 a single fly so gross an insult, as to justify a combined 

 assault on the offender with mouth, feet, and tail. In 

 other words, Texas was remarkably tender-skinned, and 

 sensitive to a degree in the particular matter of flies and 

 mosquitoes. At this early stage of the journey, also, 

 he promptly asserted the authority of a horse to have 

 the first voice in the matter of his own comfort by 

 rolling with the saddle, when we halted for refresh- 

 ments at a village. He was a persistent advocate of 

 horses' rights ; and all the way to the Crimea never 

 neglected to remind his rider that horses as well as 

 women's rights women, had abstract rights that men 

 were bound to respect, regardless of their own judg- 

 ment in the matter. 



The villages about Moscow echo something of the 

 venerable atmosphere of legendary lore that hangs 

 about the ancient capital itself. Sascha pointed out 

 one village church where, at the approach of a proces- 

 sion of priests carrying a miracle-working ikon, the 



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